Legend of Tayte
by jackkel dragon
Summary: Tayte Cousland lost everything to become a Grey Warden. Will she be able to save the world that destroyed her life, or will she selfishly watch it burn? Rated Mature for violence, sexual themes, and morally questionable actions.
1. Prologue

_Based on the plot of the video game Dragon Age: Origins._

_Dragon Age is owned by BioWare and EA._

* * *

Tayte was hardly a social person. When her father brought her to meet with guests, she would shyly hide in some corner unless someone came looking for her. When she was spoken to she would respond in whatever way would end the conversation the fastest. This was in direct contradiction of her brother Fergus, who was so outgoing that he eventually fell in love with an Antivan woman named Oriana. While her visit was intended to be brief, she decided to stay in Highever to court Fergus.

Being the daughter of Teryn Bryce Cousland, it was likely not surprising how sheltered Tayte was raised. But Tayte's growth went opposite from everything people knew of her family. While Fergus was outgoing, Tayte would spend hours on end studying in her room, eventually giving her skin an unhealthy paleness. Both Bryce Cousland and his wife Eleanor were noted warriors, but Tayte could barely hold a training staff.

Thus everyone was shocked that Tayte became fast friends with Roland Gilmore, a commoner who was squired to Bryce at the age of twelve. Tayte would leave her studying behind to watch Roland train in the barracks. Roland would then spend an hour or so each day studying Cousland history with Tayte. By the time they became adolescents, the two were considered best friends. Some even thought they were in love.

Even more jarring than Tayte's acceptance of Roland was her sudden desire to learn to fight. It had been five or six years since Roland had been squired to Bryce, and no one doubted that Tayte watched Roland's practice with interest, but few thought Tayte would seek to imitate Roland. Bryce was glad to allow his daughter to take up her family's art, but even he was surprised.

Tayte and Roland then took up the routine of fighting each other with training staves at least twice a week. Roland would gladly teach Tayte what he had learned from Bryce, and the two became closer. All of Highever expected the wedding bells to ring within the year, until one night…

* * *

Tayte forced open her tired eyes to see that she had fallen asleep on top of her book. She sighed and pushed herself up, rubbing the fatigue from her eyes. She looked out the window and cursed as she saw the moon had already risen. She quickly doused her candle and closed her book, pushing it to one side of her desk.

_I'm hardly making any progress as it is._ Tayte thought. _I don't need to be missing practices._

The idea of training in the dark was her father's. When he decided to watch the sparring, he liked the glow of the fire as opposed to the blinding sun of midday. But training never started so late before.

Tayte scurried around her room to find her leather jerkin she wore during the sparring matches. She found it and pulled it on as she raced out of her room and into the dark castle. Few people were up so late, leaving the hallways open. Which meant Roland may already be asleep.

_Why did you have to fall asleep while reading, of all things?_ Tayte stopped to catch her breath as she approached the barracks. She panted, realizing that she had been running the whole way. As she stood up, a glint of metal caught her eye.

Hanging on the wall was a ceremonial set of arms and armor that was once worn by her father during celebrations. Tayte had never been very interested in the specifics of battlefield equipment, but these pieces stood out. She admired the shape of the sword, suddenly noticing something that she should have thought of sooner.

She was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat. Tayte turned to see Roland leaning on the door to the barracks, wearing his training leathers. He pretended to yawn.

"It's about time you came. I thought you fell asleep already." He joked, probably knowing full well that Tayte had been sleeping.

Tayte chuckled with embarrassment. "Well, I'm here now. Are you ready?"

Roland shrugged. "I can be in a moment. I just need to put a few things away."

Tayte nodded and followed Roland into the barracks. It was a large room filled with military equipment with a training field open to the sky. The moon shone through the open ceiling, casting a blue light on anything that the torch fire's glow didn't reach.

Roland moved into the barracks proper to put away a suit of armor that he no doubt sweated in all day, just to get used to the weight. Tayte knew she could never put up with those bulky and heavy pieces of metal, and hoped she never had to fight in a real battle.

Tayte remembered what she was thinking as she admired the sword outside the barracks and quietly snuck over to a weapons rack. Checking to make sure Roland didn't notice her, Tayte carefully pulled out two sharp-looking swords. She checked the edge on each sword, testing it against a stray bit of leather from her jerkin. Satisfied, she snuck back into the training area so she could surprise Roland.

After waiting a few more minutes, Roland walked back in from the armor racks, sweat already beading on his forehead. He brushed it aside with the back of his wrist before giving the swords Tayte was carrying a guarded look.

"What are those for?" He asked quietly. He seemed to be a bit nervous for someone who worked with real weapons most of the day.

Tayte tossed a sword over to Roland, and he bent over to take it from the ground where it landed. "We're going to spar with them," she said without any hint of sarcasm or playfulness.

Roland gave Tayte a questioning look. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I spent five years of training before I used real weapons during sparring."

Tayte sighed. She would have to explain after all. "Training with wooden staves isn't helping, Roland."

"How is fighting with sharpened swords going to improve your training?"

"It adds risk. You can keep on beating me with a wooden staff and I'll just get some bruises, but I don't _learn_ anything." Tayte could never control the tone of her voice, now she was raising it without knowing. "I'm not going to become a fighter if all I know how to do is get beat down. I need to have a reason to evade your attacks, I need to feel that risk if I'm going to get better!"

Roland took a step back, trying to make sense of Tayte's outburst. Was she really this focused on improving her fighting skills, that she'd raise her voice to him?

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Roland shifted from foot to foot. Tayte tried to calm herself down. She shouldn't be yelling at her friend.

"All right." Roland finally mumbled. He looked up at Tayte. "Let's try it with the swords, then."

Tayte smiled and held her sword in the ready position she had been taught. After Roland signaled that he was ready, they began.

Roland started out with a simple horizontal cut, mostly to keep Tayte at distance as she hadn't reached him yet. He followed through with a stab that Tayte easily backed away from. Tayte tried an uppercut, but Roland spun his sword into a blocking position and flung Tayte's sword away. Foiled, Tayte took a step back and began to take small steps to find a better striking position.

The two squared off, waiting for the other to take the first move. Roland eventually gave up waiting and began his signature attack: a series of heavy but predictable blows, meant to tire an opponent as opposed to tricking them into letting down their guard.

The two continued to fight for an hour, and into a second. Roland had built up his endurance during his training over the past seven years. While Tayte had become used to the bruises that she usually received, she couldn't match Roland's stamina. She began to tire, but stubbornly hid the signs to prolong the fight.

After two hours, both opponents were sweating heavily and were acting almost solely on training and instinct. If a movement required planning, it was done in an instant and the next blow would begin.

Tayte's reflexes began to slow from her fatigue. She would raise her sword into the correct position to block at the last moment, and the fight began to turn to a one-sided attack, with Tayte attempting to parry each powerful blow.

Tayte nearly slipped as Roland attempted the horizontal cut from earlier, but managed to back away in time. She prepared for the stab that she expected after the cut. Instead of pulling back, Roland raised his sword high. Tayte realized this and tried to raise her sword arm to block the strike.

There was a ringing noise when metal hit metal. Tayte looked up at her tired sword arm to see both swords still swinging toward her. Before she could fully understand what was happening, blinding pain shot out across her face.

Tayte dropped her sword, and she heard it clang against the stone ground as her hands shot up to her face. She dropped to her knees and used one hand to keep herself from slamming into the floor while she held her throbbing face with the other. She tried to open her eyes, and only one eye could see that her hands were dripping with blood.

She heard another sword clatter against the ground and felt a hand on her shoulder, along with some stuttering apology. Tayte didn't pay any attention to what was around her, she was still staring horrified as blood dripped off of her face. Roland's hand disappeared and Tayte could hear him running away. _No one wants to be caught striking the Teryn's daughter_, she thought.

Tayte knelt there for several minutes, trying to make sense of what just happened. She tried to stop the bleeding, but she only got more blood on her hands and on the floor.

Tayte suddenly heard hurried footsteps and heard her father's voice bark an order. Tayte looked up with her one good eye to see Mother Mallol, the Chantry priest, kneeling next to her.

"It will be all right, child." She cooed. She pulled out a poultice of some kind and dipped her hands in it. "Try to be still, this will sting."

Tayte tried to be swayed by Mallol's reassuring words, but the sting that followed her touch made Tayte shake. Her instincts told her to shield her face again, but she knew that Mallol was doing what needed to be done. Tayte's hand shook at her side, giving her conflict a representation for all to see.

The pain began to fade after a few more applications of the poultice, and Tayte looked up to see who had come to help her. Behind Mallol, Tayte's father stood with a concerned look on his face. While he would no doubt reprimand her for being so reckless, she knew that her father likely expected this to happen at some point.

Mallol whispered something that Tayte could barely make out, and the priest helped Tayte to her feet. Tayte tried not to slip on her blood that had pooled on the stone floor as she walked past her father. Tayte saw a shadow in a corner with her good eye, and held up her head to make it out.

Roland stood in the corner of the room, unable to look Tayte in the eye.

Tayte's heart fell as she began to realize what had happened. While she was never a gifted warrior, she was known for her intuition and reasoning. And everything that she knew told her that the rift that had just opened between her and Roland could never be healed.

* * *

Tayte saw little of Roland during the next few months, and whenever they met it was awkward. Worse was that Roland could never look at anything else but Tayte's twin scar. Her own blade had pressed against her nose horizontally, while his sword had cut a jagged line from her left forehead to her jaw. The Maker had the mercy to leave Tayte's left eye intact, but that didn't keep Roland from staring.

During the wedding of Fergus and Oriana, Tayte waited anxiously for Roland to arrive. She was happy for her brother, but she didn't want to lose her friend. However, Roland never came to the ceremony.

Tayte's lessons continued, but now with her father. They began again with wooden staves, but quickly moved on to dulled swords and later to sharpened swords, but only when Tayte was deemed ready.

As she knew the night of the accident, the rift between Tayte and Roland continued to grow. On the anniversary of the event, Tayte tracked Roland down to try to make amends. He didn't accept that the accident was Tayte's fault, taking full responsibility. He ended the conversation by telling Tayte to call him "Ser Gilmore," as his training as a knight was complete.

Tayte spent more and more time in her study, though some residents of Highever Castle have claimed to have seen her sneaking about the hallways or watching the moon rise from a balcony. The librarians of the castle became confounded when an entire section of books would disappear one night and be replaced another.

Tayte and Ser Gilmore eventually began to speak to one another again, but never with the camaraderie of before. They became friends again, but they were both haunted by the wall that had been built between them after that night in the barracks.


	2. Chapter One: Peace

Tayte stood to the side as her father and Arl Rendon Howe conversed. She didn't want to interrupt her father when his friend came to visit. It had been years since Arl Howe took the time to travel from Amaranthine to speak to her father; she didn't want to interrupt unless she had to.

From afar, Tayte could barely hear what was being discussed. She heard mention of the darkspawn rising in the south and the king's call to arms, but couldn't make out the details. She sighed. She had asked her father to allow her to join the army at Ostagar alongside her brother, and had been flatly refused while Fergus was allowed to leave. _Why does he get to go when I don't? He has a wife and child to look after._ Tayte tried to rationalize the decision. Truth be told, she wasn't the best warrior of the Cousland line. Fergus, however, was a master at arms.

Tayte was startled by her father calling her over. She took a deep breath and composed herself, smiling as she approached Arl Howe and her father. Her father smiled in greeting.

"I didn't even see you there, pup" her father began. "You're not sneaking around the castle again?"

"No." Tayte replied. She surprised herself with her skill at hiding sometimes, and wondered why everyone thought she was being sneaky.

Bryce Cousland laughed. "You see what I deal with, Howe? She spends half the night slipping in and out of the shadows, only to deny everything."

Howe studied Tayte, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her uncomfortable. Thankfully, he stopped to speak to his friend. "It appears that she's become a fine young woman nonetheless."

Bryce clasped his hand on Howe's shoulder, smiling. "You would not know how hard it is to find a man that is interested in her these days, just looking at her."

Howe scrunched up his face in confusion. "What about that young man from the Bannorn that was here last summer?"

Tayte shrugged. "Didn't like the scar." She smirked at Howe, pointing out the obvious scar on her face.

"He said something about it being… what was the word?" Bryce thought a moment. "'Unbecoming' of a Teryn's daughter to be so devoted to fighting."

Howe snorted. "Did he know what family he was addressing?"

"He figured it out after a lecture from Fergus about our history." Tayte replied, chuckling at the memory. "He wasn't keen on staying after insulting the Teryn's family."

Tayte was beginning to relax, something she did very little among her father's company. Just as she thought the talk of darkspawn and war would be withheld until later that evening, one of the guards motioned to the Teryn.

"Duncan, ser."

Bryce nodded to the soldier. "Let him in."

Howe paused, a look of distress on his face. "Who is this Duncan?"

"He came a few days ago, unannounced. He represents the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."

Howe gasped in shock. Tayte had heard of the Grey Wardens: an order of warriors dedicated to fighting the darkspawn. They had been cast out of Ferelden over a century ago, and only recently returned. Tayte was surprised that a Grey Warden wouldn't be in the south with the King's army.

Tayte looked up to see a swarthy man clad in silver armor depicting the griffon crest of the Grey Wardens. He had a dark beard and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. His face was grim, and he looked like the veteran of many battles.

Howe sputtered, trying to find a proper greeting. "Ser Duncan, I apologize, but this is highly irregular, meeting a Grey Warden."

Duncan held up a hand to stop Howe. "You may simply refer to me as Duncan. Grey Wardens cast aside their titles."

Bryce turned to face Howe and Tayte. "Duncan came here to find a new recruit." He looked at Duncan. "I believe you have your eye on Ser Gilmore?"

Tayte swallowed memories of the night she fought Ser Gilmore. She knew he'd make a good Grey Warden, but that meant he'd have to leave the castle…

"If I may be so bold, your daughter is also an excellent candidate." Duncan offered.

Bryce's jovial face disappeared suddenly, and he positioned himself between Duncan and Tayte. "Honor though that might be, this is my daughter we are talking about."

Howe crossed his arms. "I believe I once heard you call the Grey Wardens heroes."

"I don't have so many children that I'll see them all off to battle!" Bryce retorted, final.

Tayte simply watched the exchange, defeated. Duncan would have let her fight with the King's army, yet her father had denied her yet again.

Bryce eyed Duncan warily. "Unless you plan on invoking the Right of Conscription?" Bryce's displeasure of the situation was obvious.

Tayte secretly hoped that Duncan would conscript her, for reasons she didn't even understand. Shouldn't she be happy she didn't have to go to war? Unfortunately, Duncan seemed to apologize.

"While we require any recruits we can find, I will not force the issue." Duncan said.

Bryce seemed to relax at that. He turned to Tayte, a hint of his smile returning already. "Pup, I need to speak with Howe and Duncan about our departure tomorrow morning."

"I thought you were leaving tonight?" Tayte asked.

Howe shrunk. "It is entirely my fault. Many of my men were delayed; they won't be here until later this evening."

Bryce nodded to Howe before turning back to Tayte. "I need you to tell your brother to lead Highever's army to Ostagar without me. I'll wait for Howe's men to arrive and leave in the morning."

Tayte nodded. "I'll go at once."

Tayte shot one last glance at the three men before she left the hall. The three of them were going off to Ostagar, possibly never to return alive. Only now did she realize why her father denied her permission to join the war. She wasn't ready.

* * *

Tayte walked through the halls of Highever castle, trying to find her Mabari hound. Fergus's son Oren liked to play with the dog, so she thought it might be a good idea to bring him along. Unfortunately, he was likely causing trouble somewhere. Mabari were too smart to be house pets.

Tayte was wandering the corridors almost aimlessly when Ser Gilmore rounded a corner and nearly ran into her. He grinned when he saw her.

"There you are; I've been looking all over for you."

Tayte chuckled at the informal greeting, unlike Ser Gilmore's usual formality. "Hello to you too, Ser Gilmore."

He looked puzzled, but he quickly realized what he did. "Oh! I'm sorry. I've been searching for so long I forgot my manners." He pointed down the hallway he came from. "I fear your hound has the castle in uproar once again."

Tayte sighed and held her head in her hand. "What did he do this time?"

Ser Gilmore smirked. "He broke into the larder. Again."

"That's the fourth time this week…" Tayte sighed again, causing Ser Gilmore to chuckle.

"I was sent to fetch you and tell you to reclaim your hound."

Tayte gave Ser Gilmore a quizzical look. "'Fetch' me? Which one is the dog?"

Ser Gilmore had his turn at sighing and holding his face. "Sorry. I've been trying to get your dog to listen to me. He only obeys his mistress."

Tayte rolled her eyes. "Mistress?" Ser Gilmore rubbed his face in embarrassment. "Why don't you just shut up and help me convince him to leave dinner alone?"

Ser Gilmore motioned Tayte to follow him. "Best suggestion I've heard all day."

Tayte followed Ser Gilmore through the corridors of the castle until they reached the kitchen, where the door to the larder was shut tight. Nan, Tayte's nanny and the cook, was yelling at two shivering eleven servants.

"Mistress, he won't let us near!" One of the elves whimpered.

"If I can't get into the larder, I'll skin both of your hides!" Nan shouted, brandishing a knife.

Ser Gilmore's eyes went wide. "Calm down, good woman. We're here to help."

Nan turned slowly, eyeing Ser Gilmore. "You." She turned further and saw Tayte. "And _you_! If you don't keep that dog out of the larder, I'm going to put it down!" Nan punctuated this by stabbing down with the knife, causing Tayte to flinch.

"Um… calm down." Tayte began. "We're taking him away."

Nan spun around, pointing the knife at the elves. "Get out of the way, make yourselves useful!"

Tayte slowly walked over to the door to the larder, followed by Ser Gilmore. When Nan was using her knife to cut potatoes instead of threatening servants, Tayte unlocked the door to the larder. She and Ser Gilmore slid in, trying to keep Nan from staring.

Tayte looked around the larder to see most of the supplies spilled all over the floor. Ser Gilmore sighed at the sight. "What a mess."

Tayte saw her Mabari sniffing in a corner, ignoring all the free food. _That's odd, _she thought. She inched closer. "Morfy?"

The hound looked up at its master for a brief moment, but quickly returned to sniffing what looked like a hole in the wall.

"Morfith, look at me!" Tayte said, raising her voice. Morfith registered that his master was behind him, and his short tail wagged. He spun around, his heavily muscled body tingling with excitement. He let out a bark, making a face that looked like a smile.

"What are you doing in here, Morfy?" Tayte asked. "You're giving Nan migraines."

Morfith tapped his paw against the hole in the wall and barked. He looked up and wagged his tail, likely expecting to be praised for finding a new way in.

"I think he's trying to tell you something." Ser Gilmore piped in.

Tayte was going to mock Ser Gilmore for mentioning the obvious when she saw what he meant. As Morfith was being distracted, a rat larger than a human head poked in through the hole. It scurried out, followed by two more. Tayte gasped as more of the rodents poured in. She wasn't afraid of rats, but these ones were bigger than her face.

And they had _very_ sharp teeth.

Tayte gulped and took a step back. "Uh, I didn't exactly bring a weapon…" Ser Gilmore took the hint and drew his dagger. He pointed it at the nearest rat, which was baring its teeth and hissing.

Morfith noticed that the larder was overrun, and sprung into action. Before Tayte could move, two rats had been eviscerated. Morfith spat out the head of one of them and clawed at another. Ser Gilmore had to crouch down to slice at the rats, causing them to flee.

Tayte held her head in her hands, berating herself for not bringing a weapon. _So much for peacefully finding my dog. _She was standing in the middle of the larder, and sighed as she watched her dog tear the poor hungry rodents apart. Ser Gilmore was huffing, not used to bending over in armor to slice at rats.

After several long minutes of listening to terrified squeaks and Ser Gilmore's panting, the last of the living rats fled through the hole. Morfith barked down into the hole, no doubt echoing down the passage. Ser Gilmore stood up, huffing as he sheathed his dagger.

"Have fun?" Tayte chided.

"I didn't see you helping out." He responded.

Morfith barked happily. Tayte turned to see him covered in blood. She sighed and cradled her head in her hands. What a day.

Ser Gilmore excused himself as Tayte stayed to clean up Morfith. She used a towel she found in the larder, scrubbing the fur of her hound the best she could.

"Stay out of the larder from now on, okay?"

Morfith sighed. Great, now he was doing it too.

Tayte decided that Morfith was presentable and pointed to the door. "Come on, Morfy."

Master and dog passed through the larder door to find an angry-looking Nan wielding a half-cooked leg of chicken.

"There he is! As brazen as you please." She cried, raising her hands in exasperation. "And what was that commotion!"

Tayte opened the door a bit farther and pointed at the corpses. "Rats."

Nan growled. "At least they're all dead." She turned to the servants. "Get in there and find something that hasn't been ruined yet!" The elves began to tumble over themselves to get into the larder. "And don't get blood on the food!"

Tayte was on her way out when she realized that Morfith wasn't following her. She turned around to see him sitting in front of Nan, tail wagging happily as he eyed the chicken leg.

"No. I'm immune to your so-called charms." Nan stated.

Morfith tilted his head and whined. Tayte sighed.

Nan stood perfectly still, staring into the dog's eyes. Tayte knew that was a mistake, no Ferelden could look into a dog's eyes and still deny them. Nan visibly weakened and tossed the chicken leg down. "Fine. Just don't say that Nan never feeds you."

Morfith ravenously devoured the chicken leg, likely seeing it as a reward for driving off the rats. When he was finished, he barked and trotted over to Tayte.

Nan sighed. "Thank you, my lady. We'll take it from here."

Tayte nodded and left with Morfith. Once they were out of hearing range of the kitchen, Tayte looked Morfith in the eyes.

Morfith looked back. Suddenly, Tayte forgot what she was going to say. She sighed and continued to walk. Morfith smiled and wagged his tail as he followed.

* * *

"Papa, is there really going to be a war?"

Fergus smiled at Tayte as she walked into his room before addressing his son Oren. "Yes, my boy. There's going to be lots of darkspawn, and the king's army is going to stop them before they get here."

Oren frowned. "Before they get here? How am I going to get a sward?"

Fergus laughed with his wife, Oriana, as Oren tried to figure out what was so funny. Even Tayte chuckled. Fergus knelt down, trying to contain his laughter. "That's 'sword,' Oren. I'll bring you back the mightiest sword I can find."

Oren turned and saw Tayte watching from the doorway, looked down and saw Morfith. "Morfy!" He shouted, running to tackle the dog. Morfith absorbed Oren, dragging the boy into the room while he hugged tight. Morfith wagged his tail and licked Oren's face.

Fergus smiled at Oriana while his son played with the dog. "I'll be back soon, my love."

Oriana frowned. "I wish victory was as certain as you claim."

Fergus stepped back and chuckled as Oren began wrestling with Morfith, the larger dog pinning Oren and mercilessly licking his face. He turned back to Oriana with a smile. "I speak the truth, love! We'll succeed, we have to."

Tayte smirked. "Would I be interrupting if I spoke now?'

Fergus laughed. "Perhaps you'll understand once you find someone special to you." He cracked a sly grin as he was regaining his composure. "Or have you already found her?"

Tayte sighed and Oriana held her face in her hands. Tayte shook her head at Fergus. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

Fergus chuckled. "It's not everyday I find my sister… 'experimenting' with another girl."

Oriana lightly punched Fergus on the shoulder. "Don't tell me you've never done anything unusual when you were young."

Fergus faked a grimace of pain and smiled at Oriana. "You got me there."

Tayte's eyes went wide. "I don't want to know."

Morfith trotted over to Tayte's side, and she gasped in horror to see Oren paying attention to the conversation.

"Don't want to know what? What did papa do?"

Tayte gave a frightened look to Fergus, who simply shrugged. Oriana bent down and held Oren's shoulder. "She just doesn't want to know what Fergus was reading last night. It was too boring for her."

Oren smiled, apparently finding a way to sympathize. "_All_ my books are boring. Except the one about griffons."

Tayte remembered Duncan. She looked up at Fergus with a serious expression. "There was a Grey Warden staying here. Did you know that, Fergus?"

Oren jumped with joy. "A Grey Warden! Was he riding a griffon?"

Oriana knelt down again to tell Oren the sad truth about griffons as Fergus stroked his chin, deep in thought. "I heard he had arrived, but I haven't heard what he came for."

"He came to find a recruit." Tayte offered. "Father thinks that he's going to choose Ser Gilmore."

Fergus's joking manner had evaporated, leaving Tayte relieved that he wouldn't make any jokes about that night several years ago. "That makes sense." He mused, thinking.

Tayte checked to make sure Oren was still occupied before continuing. "Howe's men are delayed. Father needs you to lead the men to Ostagar ahead of him."

Fergus sighed. "I suppose I should be getting them ready, shouldn't I?"

"I would have hoped you stayed long enough to say goodbye, my boy."

Tayte turned around to see her father and mother standing behind her. Bryce gave Morfith a pet before walking in, and Eleanor smiled at Oren. Fergus smiled, trying to hide the dark look on his face only moments before.

Eleanor hugged Fergus suddenly, causing him to step back. She looked up at him. "Be careful, Fergus."  
Fergus smiled. "I'll miss you, mother."

Bryce raised a hand into the air. "Why don't we bring some ale and wenches to see our glorious champion off?" Tayte gave a sideways look at her father, who chuckled. "For the men, of course."

"What's a wench?" Oren asked. "Is that what you pull on to get a bucket out of the well?"

Tayte sighed with relief that her father hadn't corrupted the boy just yet. Fergus smirked and shook his head. Eleanor and Oriana glared at Bryce.

"Oren, a wench is a woman who serves ale." Bryce said in a slow, deliberate manner. _Maker forbid,_ Tayte thought. "Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale and then—"

A slap to the face stopped Bryce in his tracks as Eleanor recoiled from the blow. Oriana mouthed "Thank the Maker." Bryce gaped at his wife.

"Maker, it's like living with a pack of small boys. Shouldn't you be somewhere?"

Bryce smiled and turned back to Fergus. "Be safe, son. Maker willing, I'll be there a few days late."

Fergus nodded as his father and mother walked out. Tayte noticed that Oriana wanted to speak with Fergus and excused herself. Morfith walked happily along as Tayte returned to her room. She set out a bowl of water for Morfith, which he splashed around before drinking.

Tayte sat down at her desk and pulled out a book about the First Blight. If she was going to live during the times of a Blight, she might as well know what her father and brother were going to be protecting her from.

* * *

_AN: Tayte is straight, Fergus just likes to... embellish. He can't accept that not everyone has an Antivan spouse. Just be glad he doesn't know Zevran..._


	3. Chapter Two: Shattered

A scream woke Tayte from her sleep. She jolted upright and froze. Everything seemed fine, but the scream echoed in Tayte's mind. Morfith got up from his bed and growled at the door. Tayte took a deep breath and put her clothes on. She hesitated when she reached for the door. Morfith was still growling, but Tayte could hear men screaming in pain and metal hitting metal. She reached for a dagger that she hid behind her desk and opened the door slowly, keeping to the shadows.

Morfith padded quietly behind Tayte, still tense but not currently growling. Tayte bent over to take advantage of the shadows and crept through the halls to where she had heard the first scream. Tayte stopped when she realized the direction the scream came from. Fergus's room.

Tayte skulked down the hallway and pressed herself against the wall before she was seen by two men in the doorway to Fergus's room. Tayte leaned out slightly to make out their weapons: a sword and bow for each. Their swords were already drawn, and the blade of one man's sword was red with blood.

"Shame, eh?" One of the men whispered. "Seemed like a nice sort."

"How picky are you?" The other man asked. "She's still warm."

Tayte pulled back and took a deep breath when she was out of hearing range. They wouldn't have killed Oriana and Oren, she thought. They were innocent.

Tayte steadied herself and motioned to Morfith, telling him to stay. He whined, but decided to stand guard in case more men came. Tayte turned back to the pair of armed men guarding Fergus's room and crept closer.

The men continued to mock Oriana while Tayte snuck up behind them. She took a quick breath as she raised her dagger. She had never killed another person before. But she wouldn't let them get away with attacking her family. She positioned herself behind one of the men, the one with the bloody sword, and knifed him in the back.

The man screamed in pain as the dagger punctured his flesh, and he clutched his back with his free hand. The other man flinched, but quickly overcame his initial shock to come after Tayte. She saw him coming and quickly pulled off a coin purse from the man she just stabbed. She tore it open and flung it into the second man's face, causing him to stumble backward for an instant.

An instant was all Tayte needed to rush from behind the first man to bury the dagger in the second man's chest. He gasped in horror as Tayte pulled out the dagger, letting his blood spray onto the stone floor. He swung his sword wildly, but Tayte backed away.

Tayte turned around to see the first man leading with his pommel as he brought his sword down on her. She avoided letting him club her head, but he knocked her back when the pommel collided with Tayte's shoulder. Tayte flung her dagger at the man's face and the projectile buried into his throat. The man's eyes went wide as he dropped his sword and reached for his throat. He collapsed, gagging and bleeding, to the floor.

Tayte took several deep breaths to recover from the fight before she pulled the dagger out of the man's throat. She was wiping off most of the blood on the man's tunic when she recognized the symbol on his coat.

Howe of Amaranthine.

Tayte froze, trying to figure out why Arl Howe's men would attack Highever. Howe was friends with the Teryn! There had to be some mistake…

Tayte stood up and whistled to Morfith as quietly as she could manage. Morfith jogged around the corner and over to Tayte. He sniffed at the dead bodies before looking up expectantly.

"Stay here, Morfith." Tayte sighed. "Guard the doorway. I need to check on Oriana and Oren."

Morfith gave a sort-of nod before turning to watch the hallway. Tayte kept her dagger ready, just in case there were more soldiers in the room.

Tayte pushed open the slightly open doorway and looked around. Tayte gasped at the sight.

"Oriana!" Tayte rushed over to Oriana, who was lying on the floor, motionless. Tayte knelt down beside her and checked her pulse. Nothing. Tayte noted that Oriana's throat was slit and that she had lost too much blood to still be alive. Tayte tried to hold back tears while she realized that Oriana was violated by the men Tayte had just killed.

Tayte tried to avert her eyes only to let them rest on a more horrifying sight. Against the opposite wall from Oriana, Oren was lying motionless, as if tossed aside. His head was cracked open like an egg, dark blood pouring out over him.

Tayte dropped the dagger in her hands when she saw the sight. She couldn't take her eyes from Oren's lifeless body.

"No!" Came a voice from behind Tayte. She turned around to see her mother, clad in leather armor and armed with a sword and bow.

Eleanor stared at the small corpse against the wall. "My little Oren! How could they have done this?"

Tayte grabbed her dagger and stood up. "What's happening, why are we under attack?"

Eleanor tried to pry her eyes from Oren's bloody corpse. "I… I don't know." She finally took a deep breath and looked at her living offspring. "Do you know who these men are?"

"They wear Howe's uniform." Tayte replied. She pointed to the corpses that Morfith was standing watch near.

Eleanor stared in disbelief. "No, that can't be." She shook her head. "Howe would never betray us."

Tayte stood and walked over to her mother, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It doesn't matter who they are right now. We have to get out of here."

Eleanor scowled at the dead men before looking Tayte in the eyes. "When I find Howe, he is going to pay."

* * *

Tayte led her mother and Morfith through the dark hallways, trying to avoid the sounds of conflict. She needed to find her father and escape through the secret exit in the larder before Howe's men found her. Eleanor kept her bow at the ready, checking behind the group every few minutes. Tayte stopped in her tracks when she saw that the hallway was blocked. The soldiers must have come to this hallway sooner, as they had piled up furniture and set it ablaze.

"We can't go this way." She whispered. She considered going around the castle, rejected the idea after realizing that the soldiers might be able to secure the castle before they escaped. She sighed as she decided to cut through the main hall.

"Darling?" Eleanor whispered, worried. Tayte pointed down the hallway they had just passed.

"We need to get through the main hall and hope that none of the corridors were sealed off like this one." Tayte led the way through the hallways with Morfith jogging to keep up.

Upon reaching the doors to the main hall, Tayte pressed herself against the wall and listened. There was the sound of battle in the hall. She looked down the corridor to see that the way was blocked. "We have to fight our way through." Tayte sighed.

Eleanor prepared an arrow and aimed at the door as Tayte opened it slowly. Morfith charged in as Eleanor shot the nearest Howe soldier. Tayte snuck in past Eleanor and quickly gauged the battle. Four Howe soldiers still alive, along with three Highever knights. Tayte recognized one of them, and an enemy soldier was about to impale him through the back. "Ser Gilmore! Behind you!"

Ser Gilmore spun around to have the man's sword pierce his gut before he shuffled back. He brought his sword down hard, knocking the enemy's sword to the ground. Another swing and the man was slumping to the ground, blood oozing from his neck where the head had been sliced off.

Tayte flung her dagger to catch a Howe soldier before he could swing at Morfith, and the man clutched at his side as he was gored by the angry dog. Eleanor shot another enemy down while the knights disarmed and killed the last soldier.

Ser Gilmore held his gut where he was stabbed and pointed at the gates with his sword. "Man the gate! Don't let any more of those bastards in!"

Tayte pulled her dagger from the dead soldier and ran over to Ser Gilmore. "Where is my father?"

Ser Gilmore steadied his breathing from the exhaustion that was setting in, trying not to strain his injury. "The last I saw him, he was badly wounded. Arl Howe stabbed him in the back…"

Eleanor cursed. "That sick bastard is going to pay."

Tayte shook her head in disbelief. "He's not dead, is he?"

Ser Gilmore pointed in the direction of the larder. "I bought him some time to escape to the secret passageway." He sighed. "But Howe escaped. It was him or your father."

Tayte nodded. "I understand."

Ser Gilmore looked Tayte in the eye. "Then you know what you need to do. Get your family out of here, warn Fergus."

Tayte lowered her brow. "What about you?"

Ser Gilmore raised his sword into a salute. "I'm going to do my duty."

Tayte shook her head. "No! Come with us, we'll need help…"

Eleanor grabbed Tayte's shoulder. "We don't have time, darling. We need the knights to guard the gate until we can escape."

Tayte stared at Ser Gilmore. "Ser Gil—Roland. Please come with us!"

Ser Gilmore shook his head. "This is what I have to do, Tayte. Maker watch over you."

With that, he ran over to the other knights to barricade the gates until the main force arrived. Tayte took a step toward them before Eleanor grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her away.

"We have to go, darling." She sighed.

Tayte stared back at Ser Gilmore for another moment. He was shouting orders, ready to die for her family. Hadn't her father always warned her something like this could happen?

_She was never ready for war._

Tayte spun around and ran for the larder to catch up to her mother. Morfith sprinted behind her, watching as his master choked back tears.

* * *

Tayte coughed from running for too long as she leaned against the door to the kitchen. Eleanor opened the door slowly to make sure no one was inside before walking in. Morfith padded over to the door to the larder before sitting down and watching.

Tayte stabilized her breathing and tried to keep her composure. She walked into the kitchen and nearly doubled over again. Tossed haphazardly across the floor were the bodies of the elven servants and Nan. Tayte felt sick and tried to keep her breathing steady. Eleanor steadied Tayte and patted her back.

"This way, darling. We're almost out."

Tayte couldn't take her eyes away from the bodies as she walked toward the larder. She had seen so much death, something she never expected to understand.

"What about Mother Mallol?" She suddenly whispered. The Chantry priest was one of Tayte's few friends in the castle. She had taught Tayte since she was a child, before even Ser Gilmore came…

"We don't have time, darling." Eleanor sighed. "I'm sorry.

Eleanor opened the door to the larder and gasped. "Bryce!" Tayte ran in after her mother to see her father on the floor, bleeding profusely. The blood was pooling up, coming out too quickly to be healed.

He looked up at his wife's voice and groaned. He tried to sit upright but only managed to bleed more quickly. Eleanor kneeled down and put her hands around Bryce. "Don't move. We're here now."

Tayte's heart dropped. There was no way her father was leaving alive.

Bryce choked on blood as he tried to speak. "Go on without me." He croaked. "I won't survive standing."

Eleanor refused to believe her husband was dying and that she could do nothing. "Bryce, just hold on. We'll find you healing… there has to be a mage somewhere."

Bryce shook his head. "I won't make it out of here, and neither will you if you don't leave now."

Eleanor was about to object when a deep voice came from the kitchen. "The Teryn is correct." Tayte turned around to see Duncan, the Grey Warden. His armor was coated in blood, likely not his own. He sheathed his red-stained sword before walking closer. "It is only a matter of time before Howe's men find this exit."

Eleanor looked up. "You are… Duncan, correct? The Grey Warden?"

Duncan nodded. "I am."

Bryce looked up at Duncan. "Duncan… please take my wife and daughter to safety."

Duncan looked sadly on Bryce. "I will do my best, but I must ask for something in return."

Bryce nodded. "The Blight…"

"I came here looking for a recruit." Tayte looked up at Duncan, horrified. "The nature of the threat we face requires me to leave with one."

"I can't leave my family like this!" Tayte shouted without thinking.

Bryce frowned. "There is nothing left for you here, Tayte."

Eleanor shook her head. "I'm not leaving Bryce. Take Tayte to safety."

Tayte gasped. "No!" She grabbed her mother's arm. "Come with us!"

Eleanor pulled her arm away. "I'm not leaving my husband to die alone." She pulled out her sword. "I'll kill every bastard that comes in that door."

Tayte looked at Duncan, pleading. His sad expression said everything. "I will take your daughter to safety." Duncan looked at Bryce. "Then she will become a Grey Warden."

Bryce nodded. "As long as she lives."

"And as long as Howe pays." Added Eleanor.

Duncan stood and stepped back as Eleanor tried to comfort Bryce. Tayte reached for her mother but was pulled back by Duncan. He whistled to Morfith, who followed as Duncan pulled Tayte into the secret door behind a crate in the larder. Tayte tried to free herself from Duncan's grip, but he held fast. Eleanor looked up one last time before Duncan shut the doorway.

"Goodbye, darling."

With that, Duncan shut the door between Tayte and the last of the life she knew. Everything plunged into blackness as Duncan dragged her, struggling, through the secret passage out of the castle.

* * *

After Tayte stopped struggling and followed Duncan willingly, he let go of her arm. They hurried through the passage, trying to escape before the castle was taken. Tayte sighted a dim light at the end of the passage, and soon they ran out into the night. Duncan tossed Tayte a cloak from his pack and she pulled it over herself to hide her face.

Tayte looked up to see the moon high in the sky, oblivious to the massacre in the castle. She looked back to see her home in flames. Highever Castle was ablaze, casting a red glow over the city below. Tayte gasped as one of the towers crumbled and flattened. Duncan tugged her shoulder.

"We must escape into the wilds before they find us." He commanded. Tayte wrapped herself in the cloak and followed Duncan into the wooded hills nearby. Morfith ran slightly ahead, checking to make sure he was going the same direction.

Tayte felt like she had been running for hours when Duncan finally stopped. He motioned to Tayte and she bent over to catch her breath. Once she was breathing regularly, she looked up. Duncan pointed over the hill they were hiding behind at the flaming wreck of Highever.

"It appears Howe has taken advantage of the Blight." He scowled. "Divided, we will perish against the darkspawn."

Tayte choked back tears from running for so long and all that she had seen that night. She took a long breath of the wilderness air to steady herself after remembering her friends and family dying. "Why couldn't my mother come with? She didn't have to die."

Duncan sighed. "It was not my choice to make. It was hers." Duncan's voice lowered. "In death, sacrifice."

"What's that?" Tayte asked, unsure what he meant.

Duncan shook his head. "You will learn in due time." He dropped his pack to the ground. "We should be safe for now, we hid the secret passage and they were only attacking the castle." He considered. "We will still have to leave at dawn, before they find the passage."

Tayte nodded. Morfith realized what was happening and plopped to the ground, half asleep already. Duncan pulled out his bedroll and handed it to Tayte. She reluctantly accepted it, still coming to terms with all that had happened in the past few hours.

Duncan slept on the ground, and Morfith had made a comfortable patch of grass to sleep in. Tayte set up the bedroll and stared at the sky, unable to sleep. She watched the stars until they began to fade and the sun began its crawl up the sky. Duncan woke suddenly, nudging Morfith before walking over to Tayte.

"Unable to sleep?"

Tayte nodded and stood up, aching from the activity of the night before. "I couldn't sleep after all of that." She rubbed her eyes and made up the bedroll for Duncan to pack. Within a few minutes, the group was moving again.

Tayte looked back one last time. She had no idea which direction they were headed, or where they were going. All she knew was that everything that she knew was gone.

"My life as Tayte Cousland is over." She mused.

Duncan looked over his shoulder. "In a sense. Now you are merely Tayte, the Grey Warden."

Tayte nodded, not really comprehending. "Where are we going?"

Duncan pointed out a trail in the woods. "We'll take this trail to the nearest village for supplies." He turned to Tayte. "After that, we join the king's army at Ostagar."


	4. Chapter Three: Survival

Tayte wrapped the cloak around her tighter as she followed Duncan into the small village. It had been four days since Highever Castle had been attacked, and Tayte spent most of the travelling hours attempting to rationalize what had happened to destroy her old life. She wasn't used to the constant walking, but she ignored her aching legs as she tried to come up with reasons why Howe's men would betray them.

Maybe they weren't actually Howe's men, maybe they stole the uniforms to cover their attack and smear Howe's name. Maybe Howe wasn't the one who gave the order. Maybe Howe was being blackmailed…

None of the rationalizations allowed Tayte to forget what Ser Gilmore had told her: her father was stabbed by Arl Howe.

Tayte pulled up her hood as a few men from the village came into view. It was unlikely anyone would recognize her here, but she wanted to be safe. Duncan turned and sighed at Morfith as they came closer to the village.

"It's going to be hard to justify bringing a Mabari hound along with you." He whispered sullenly. "We should have a story ready in case someone asks."

Tayte nodded. "Well, you're the leader, so…" Duncan raised an eyebrow. "You need to be Morfith's master in any story we make, otherwise people will be suspicious."

Morfith sighed and sat down next to Tayte, staring at her feet. Tayte wracked her mind for ideas. Duncan took a glance back to make sure no one was paying too much attention. The men near the village entrance had their backs to the road.

"You found him at… Redcliffe… the farms near Redcliffe… his master had been killed by bandits and he imprinted to you. And he likes me, for some reason neither of us knows." Tayte shrugged. "Not the best story."

Duncan eyed a group of armed men walking towards them, likely the ones that he had seen a few moments before. "It will have to do."

Tayte nudged Morfith and stood behind Duncan, trying to look unimportant. There were four men in total, each armed with a long sword. The leader carried a shield, and wore a chain shirt over his leather armor. He approached Duncan and frowned.

"Who might you be?" The soldier demanded.

Duncan gave the man a rogue like smile. "We're simple travelers, come to resupply after some hard luck in the Bannorn."

The man nodded, not impressed. "Nice dog you have there. Mabari breed. I'm told they're smart enough to speak, clever enough not to." He fixed his gaze on Tayte, who shrunk away behind her hood. "How did two travelers come by a Mabari?"

Duncan smiled at Morfith. "You mean Morfith here? Well, it all started in a farm outside Redcliffe…"

Duncan crafted a masterful tale of meeting Morfith during a visit to Redcliffe, finding his master killed by bandits, and fighting off the last of the bandits with Morfith at his side. He left out Tayte's imprinting idea, but mentioned that Morfith liked Tayte more than anyone else.

Once the tale was done, the three men waiting behind the first grinned and whispered to each other. The leader was intrigued by the tale, and listened until Duncan noted that he was finished.

"Some story there. That also explains your weapons." He pointed out Duncan's long sword and dagger strapped to his belt. "But there's one thing I'm not sure you mentioned."

Duncan kept calm, and Tayte could tell he had the situation under control. "There's really nothing more to tell…"

The leader of the armed men held up a hand to stop Duncan before pointing at Tayte. "When did you meet her? I don't remember her in your story from Redcliffe."

"Ah, yes. I forgot that part. I met her in Denerim just a few weeks ago. She…"

"Wait." One of the men interrupted. "Her face looks familiar…" Tayte gasped and pulled her hood closer.

Duncan continued, trying to salvage the development. "I'm told she looks remarkably like…"

Tayte backed away as the leader inched closer. "What are you hiding, girl? Take your hood off!"

Duncan drew his dagger and flung it into the chest of one of the men, sending him to the ground, clutching the dagger. Morfith saw the attack and charged into another man, knocking him over. Duncan unsheathed his sword and almost impaled the leader before he raised his sword in a parry.

Tayte stood shocked for a moment before drawing her dagger to face the last man that wasn't wounded or engaged. He taunted her, giving an obvious opening. She took a deep breath before stepping closer, making sure to keep enough distance between her enemy to jump away if need arose.

The man sliced the air with his blade while Tayte nimbly hopped to the side and back. She remembered her training, the dodging and repositioning skills that she had been fond of. She ducked under another cut before rolling past the man, coming up behind him. She quickly stabbed the man in the back before he could turn around.

The man flinched in pain, and Tayte buried her dagger through his heart. He tried to reach her with his sword to no avail. He dropped the useless weapon and tried to claw her off with bloodied hands. Tayte yanked the dagger out of his back and let him topple to the ground.

Tayte spun around, expecting another foe. Instead, she watched as Morfith tore open the throat of his foe and Duncan fighting the two living men. Duncan wielded his sword with grace, as opposed to the brute strength Ser Gilmore had relied on.

Duncan parried a blow from one man and spun a pirouette to face the other. Each move was executed perfectly, as if it were an exotic dance learned over decades. Tayte marveled as Duncan disarmed one man with his sword while kicking the leader between the legs. Duncan skewered the leader, burying his sword up to the shield on the man's back. He quickly turned around and snapped the neck of the recovering man reaching for his weapon.

Tayte stood motionless, not sure what to do next. Four men lay on the ground, dead. One of them by her hands. What would happen now?

Duncan pulled his sword from the leader and retrieved his dagger. He pulled out a ragged cloth and wiped the blood off his weapons before handing the cloth to Tayte. She rubbed the dark red stain off of her dagger and handed the cloth back. They sheathed their weapons as they beheld their crime.

"It is unlikely that anyone in that village will deal with us now, even if these men were not well-liked." Duncan sighed. "We'll need to find another village to get supplies."

Tayte watched as Duncan began to head down the road they came on. She worked up the courage to ask him a question. "Why did you attack them?"

Duncan stopped. He sighed. After a long pause, he seemed to decide something. He walked over to the corpse of the leader and spun him onto his belly. The shield he wore bore the crest of Amaranthine, of Arl Howe.

"His back was facing us as we approached. I couldn't let him see your face and live to tell others." Duncan inclined his head. "We should leave before more people ask questions."

Tayte nodded and followed Duncan on the road, calling for Morfith to follow. For the next few days, she would vividly remember Howe's crest on the shield of the dead man.

* * *

Duncan led Tayte south for several days before they reached another village. He entered alone to purchase supplies, worried that Tayte might cause another scene. Sure enough, there were soldiers from Amaranthine near the village, and the group left as soon as Duncan had enough provisions to travel.

Tayte's shoes began to wear out after a few days, and she tried to keep from complaining about her tired legs to Duncan as they followed the road to Ostagar. She stared at her feet as she trailed behind Duncan, willing her feet not to sting. Morfith panted in exhaustion, trying to keep up with Duncan.

Duncan noticed the torn shoes that night when he was preparing camp. His eyes widened in surprise as he pointed at the frayed leather. "When did that…"

Tayte forced a chuckle as she rubbed her sore feet. "Earlier today. I don't think these shoes were made for travelling."

Duncan sighed and dug through his pack until he found a spare pair of boots. He handed the large footwear to Tayte, who hesitated before accepting them. "They're going to be too big for you." Duncan warned. "But it's all I have with me."

"That's fine." Tayte replied, pulling off her destroyed shoes and trying on Duncan's boots. Her feet had plenty of extra room, and it felt like the boots could fall off at any time.

Duncan began preparing a fire for the evening meal, collecting kindling from the roadside and placing the tinder on a fire pit made from a ring of stones and a log that he had brought. Tayte sighed, unsure of what to do to help. She had never been outside of the castle before; she had no wilderness survival skills.

Tayte began to stroke Morfith's fur as she tried to occupy herself. She thought of the past few weeks, and began to lament all that she lost. She would never be able to read with Mother Mallol again, never spar with Roland or her father, and never be able to play with Oren…

Tayte brooded for over an hour before the fire was well underway and Duncan noticed her scowling. He sat on his bedroll, an uncomfortable look on his face as he gazed into the fire. He opened his mouth a few times, but quickly closed it. Tayte continued to scowl, and eventually sighed and leaned forward. Morfith stared at Tayte, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Duncan was preparing to say something when Tayte groaned and stood up. She began to pace back and forth, pulling at her hair. "Why did he do it?" She demanded. "What could Howe possibly gain by killing my family?"

Duncan took a breath and stood up. "Tayte, not everyone is as… noble as you might expect."

Tayte spun on Duncan and glared. "He killed _children_, Duncan! What could anyone gain that is worth killing children?"

Duncan cautiously took a step closer. "We don't know that Howe intended to kill everyone…"

"You're lying!" Tayte shouted, startling Morfith. "We both know he wanted everyone in the castle dead!" Tayte pointed an accusing finger at Duncan. "But we could have saved more! _You_ could have saved more! We could have at least saved my mother!"

Duncan closed his eyes and took a breath, gathering his resolve.

"You're a disgrace! My family lies dead because of you, and my brother's child was murdered because you didn't get there in time!" Tayte began to take a step toward Duncan with each word. "My father was the second most important man in Ferelden, and he was killed because you weren't there to protect him!" Tayte was almost in Duncan's face, still pointing her finger at him. "And then you take me away from my life, my family, to join an order of traitors! Why should I join your Grey Wardens, when you can't even protect my family?"

Duncan shoved Tayte's hand aside and glared at her. His dark eyes pierced Tayte's resolve, causing her to step back. "Your family's death was not my doing, Tayte." He spat out the name, as if it was distasteful. "The Grey Wardens are not guardians of Ferelden; we must protect the entire world from the darkspawn." Duncan grabbed Tayte by the shoulder, and she froze. "We will defeat the Blight, at any cost. And you will join us, because it is your _duty_."

The way Duncan said _duty_ caused Tayte's blood to chill. There was no turning back.

Duncan stared into Tayte's eyes for another long minute before he let go of her shoulder. He turned back to the fire and began cooking the evening meal. Tayte sat back down, stunned. Duncan glared at her. "Before you can officially join the Grey Wardens, you must learn to pull your own weight." He stepped back from the cook pot and held the spoon to Tayte. "It's your turn to cook the meal."

Tayte slowly got up and took the spoon from Duncan. She looked into the cook pot, completely unsure of what to do. "Well, get to it." Duncan said from behind her. Tayte turned around to see Duncan reclining on his bedroll. He shot a glare at Tayte and she spun around to look at the pot again. She hesitantly began to stir the contents of the pot. "You may want to put some food in, first." Duncan growled. "That's water you're stirring."

Tayte tried to hide her embarrassment as she sorted through the food supplies and slowly put together a stew of some kind. When she was finished, Duncan ate hungrily. He cringed at the taste of the stew, but still managed to down several bowls. Tayte absently stirred her own bowl and forced some down before Duncan decided to yell at her.

"You're going to need more practice." Duncan sighed. "You'll be cooking for the next few days."

Tayte held back a sigh and choked down the last of her food before laying down on her bedroll and falling asleep. Morfith cuddled up next to Tayte, and she put an arm around him. Duncan stayed awake for several hours longer, as Tayte could hear him muttering to himself whenever she couldn't get to sleep.


	5. Chapter Four: Arrival at Ostagar

Tayte gasped as an ancient tower came into view. It was made of Tevinter stone, and stood over a mile tall. Duncan heard her marvel at the building and began to explain without even turning or missing a step.

"The Tower of Ishal. It was built by the Tevinter Imperium to keep watch for the Chasind Wilders."

"Chasind?" Tayte asked. "Does that mean…"

"We have reached Ostagar."

Tayte sighed with relief. Over the past few weeks she had learned over twenty ways to burn water. She didn't even know that one _could_ burn water. She also learned exactly how most foods tasted after being cooked for too long in burned water. Unfortunately, Duncan heard her sigh.

"We still have another day of travel before we reach the King's camp."

Tayte groaned. Morfith choked at the thought of eating Tayte's leftovers again. Duncan hid a smile.

Tayte walked hunched over behind Duncan, trying to keep her exasperation to herself. Each passing hour brought the Tower of Ishal closer, until it nearly loomed over the group. As Duncan expected, it was nightfall long before they reached the fortress of Ostagar.

* * *

Tayte tried to push aside the memory of burnt stew from the night before while Duncan led the way into Ostagar. The fortress was huge, but it was showing the signs of age and battle. Pieces of stone had broken off certain structures, and the roads were broken in places.

"I trust you know the history of this fortress?" Duncan asked.

Tayte nodded. "You told me on the road."

"While the Tevinter built this fortress to ward off barbarians, it is fitting we make our stand here." Duncan continued. "It is our first and best line of defense against the darkspawn."

Tayte looked around the empty streets. "How many Grey Wardens are here?"

"Our numbers are few in Ferelden, but we are all here. I suspect we have several dozen Wardens, including you and the other recruits."

Tayte sighed. "Great."

"The King has been pushing for reinforcements from Orlais, but so far has been unsuccessful." Duncan lowered his head. "We were to have the Wardens of Orlais among us at this battle."

"I suppose it makes sense." Tayte responded. "Ferelden hasn't exactly forgiven Orlais for the Blessed Age occupation."

Duncan nodded. "True." He held up a hand for Tayte to stop. She looked up to see that a man with blonde hair in golden armor was being escorted towards them. Behind the escort was a dark-haired man wearing Orlesian plate armor, scowling as he tailed the group.

The blonde haired man smiled as he approached Duncan and held out a hand. "Duncan! I was afraid you'd miss the battle!"

Duncan took the man's hand and shook it. "Not if I could help it, your majesty."

Tayte took a deep breath and stood up straight. She had never left Highever before, but she should have recognized her own king! Luckily, the king was paying more attention to Duncan.

"So I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle at last!" The king smiled and patted Duncan on the shoulder. "What a glorious day it will be, when we free Ferelden from the Blight!"

The dark-haired man stepped forward, pushing aside one of the escorts. "Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan."

King Cailan snorted and looked back at the dark-haired man. "A man has to give thought to their legacy, Loghain. We can't all be the practical one."

Again Tayte took a deep breath. _Loghain_? The Hero of River Dane! Tayte tried to keep a neutral face as she observed Loghain with awe. The man that had served with King Maric in the final years of the Orlesian occupation! She had thought Loghain was some sort of Orlesian ambassador, but now she figured that he may have claimed the armor of a Chevalier as a trophy.

Loghain scowled at Cailan. "Be that as it may, even you need to prepare for the battles to come. We can't rely on an order of warriors that has no ties to Ferelden."

"We've won three battles so far, Loghain." Cailan scolded playfully. "This next skirmish will be no different."

Duncan cleared his throat quietly. "Your majesty, we must consider the possibility that the Archdemon will arrive…"

Loghain nodded. "I understand your concern, Duncan, but we have had no sightings of dragons in the wilds."

Cailan chuckled and shook his head. "Alas, I fear that the Archdemon won't be here to see its forces routed."

Duncan gave Cailan a worried look. "I'm not sure the Blight can be ended as…" He paused to search for the right word. "…easily as you might wish."

Cailan nodded. "I've been trying to reach the Wardens of Orlais and Empress Celene, but Loghain continues to refuse." Cailan gave Loghain a mock sneer.

Loghain shook his head and paced. "How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son willing to hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century!"

Cailan scowled. "Then I suppose our current forces will have to suffice."

Loghain stood still for a moment before turning back to Cailan. "Meet me at the strategy meeting tonight." He skulked off, pushing the escorts aside. "Try to be amenable to wisdom."

Cailan shook his head. "I'm sure he waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies. Sometimes the best defense is the simplest."

Tayte was still watching Loghain walk down the road into the camp. The man took one look back before disappearing into the crowds of soldiers moving from tents and pavilions. Tayte almost felt sorry that Loghain had to deal with a man so different from the one he served with thirty years ago.

Cailan noticed Tayte and his smile returned. "Ah, this must be the newest recruit!" He walked over and offered a hand. "It's good to meet you, Tayte Cousland."

Tayte hesitated. "How did you know my name?"

Cailan chuckled. "Your father spoke highly of you during the Landsmeet; I recognized your face from his descriptions. I'm sure he's proud to have his daughter become a Grey Warden."

Tayte shook Cailan's hand and gave a questioning look to Duncan. Duncan merely shrugged.

"Where is your father, by the way?" Cailan asked. "Your brother arrived with Highever's forces, but we've had no word of your father."

Tayte gulped. Memories of that night several weeks ago flooded back, unbidden…

_She ran in after her mother to see her father on the floor, bleeding profusely…_

"He…" Tayte tried not to cry. "He's… not coming."

Cailan gave Duncan a questioning look. "What do you mean? Has Bryce taken ill?"

Duncan noticed that Tayte was shaking slightly and stepped in. "Teryn Cousland was killed by Arl Howe's men." Cailan's eyes went wide. "They killed everyone in the castle." Cailan gasped and looked at Tayte. "If we didn't escape, he would have told you whatever he wished."

Cailan turned and paced. "How could Howe think he would get away with such treachery?" He clenched his fists and spun around. "That bastard will hang the moment I return from Ostagar. That much I swear."

Tayte nodded slowly, not really listening. Morfith whimpered next to her, watching her closely.

Cailan sighed. "Your… brother is in the field. I'm afraid you will have to wait until after the battle to… tell him what happened."

Tayte nodded and looked up. "I'm not ready to tell him yet anyway."

"Very well." Cailan signaled his escorts. "I must be on my way. I need to write a letter to Redcliffe and prepare for Loghain's meeting. Farewell, Grey Wardens." Cailan nodded to Duncan. "Maker be with you."

Cailan and his escorts walked down into the camp. Tayte watched them go, unsure of what to do next.

Duncan looked at Tayte. "With the darkspawn approaching, it is nearly time for you to undergo the Joining."

Tayte looked up at Duncan. "The Joining? What's that?"

"It is a ritual all Grey Wardens must undertake. That is all you must know for now." Duncan began to walk toward the camp and Tayte followed. "I will show you your tent later tonight, but first you must find a Grey Warden named Alistair. He will accompany you as you undertake the Joining."

Tayte nodded. "All right. I'm ready."

Duncan smiled. "Good. Return to me after you have found Alistair. We must begin the Joining before nightfall, the darkspawn horde may not have arrived, but the wilds are dangerous enough at night."

Duncan pointed out a circle of tents guarded by men wearing armor engraved with a sword on the chest plate. "Alistair should be somewhere near the mage encampment. I suggest you begin there."

Tayte took a deep breath and gave Duncan a short bow. "I will go at once."

Tayte turned and began walking away as quickly as she could. She had never bowed to anyone before; she was the Teryn's daughter, almost the highest ranked person in Ferelden. But that wasn't her life anymore…

Duncan chuckled as he watched Tayte leave, knowing how unusual it was for Tayte to bow to her new superior.

* * *

Tayte smiled nervously as the templar guarding the mage encampment glared at her from beneath his helmet. "You're looking for who?"

"Alistair." Tayte paused before adding "I was told I could find him here…"

"Haven't seen him." The templar crossed his arms. "He's not exactly welcome here, anyway."

Tayte frowned. "What do you mean?"

The templar scoffed and shook his head. "Never mind. Try over by the ruined temple. A mage left not long ago to talk to one of your Grey Wardens. Perhaps this Alistair is there." Tayte noticed that the templar sneered when pronouncing the name Alistair. She nodded and nervously backed away.

"Um… thank you…"

The templar sighed and leaned on a post, already ignoring Tayte. She turned and walked quickly toward the ruined temple that the templar spoke of. It was Tevinter in style, like everything else in Ostagar. However, the roof had fallen away over the years and exposed the interior to the elements. As Tayte approached, she could hear the sound of two men arguing.

"What is it now?" Growled a low voice, coming from a man in red robes. "Haven't Grey Wardens asked enough of the Circle?"

A man in simple armor with blonde hair smiled sarcastically. "I simply came to deliver a message. The Revered Mother desires your presence."

"What her reverence 'desires' is no concern of mine!" The other man shouted. "I am here on the king's orders to assist the Grey Wardens with their preparations…"

The blonde haired man chuckled. "I'm sure you could use a break. Don't you want a little rest, a quick chat with a sweet, elderly woman…"

The robed man threw his hands up in frustration. "I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"And here I thought we were getting along so well!" The blonde haired man chuckled. "I was even going to name one of my children after you!" The man's eyes lowered into a mock anger. "The grumpy one."

The robed man clenched his fists and stood glaring at the blonde haired man for a few moments. He then took a deep breath and spun around. "Enough!" He began to walk away. "I will speak with the woman if I must." The robed man nearly bumped into Tayte on his way out of the temple. "Out of my way, fool." He called out behind him. Tayte shook her head.

"You know…" The blonde haired man began, causing Tayte to look back at him. He was a handsome lad, about Tayte's age. He wore a small sash on his shoulder with the Grey Warden symbol dyed into it, and he was equipped with a sword and shield. "The good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." He flashed a smile at Tayte.

Tayte raised her brow for a moment, thinking he was trying to flirt with her. After a moment, she chuckled as she began to understand the joke. "You've got that right." She looked over her shoulder to see the robed man still storming off.

"It's like a party!" The man continued, raising his hands up and smiling. "We all get in a circle and join hands!" He continued to smile as Tayte laughed, but suddenly took a more serious expression. "Wait... you're not another mage, are you?"

Tayte tried to stop laughing, but only managed to reduce her volume to a chuckle. "No, I'm not a mage."

The man's smile came back instantly. "Oh, good! I was worried for a moment." Realization dawned in his eyes. "Wait… you're one of the recruits that Duncan found, aren't you?"

Tayte nodded, finally suppressing her chuckle. "Yes. How did you know?"

The man shrugged. "I'm not the most popular guy this time of day, what with all the mages and templars trying to forget I exist. Which means you had to be looking for me."

Tayte raised a brow. "Are you Alistair?"

The man pointed at himself with his thumb and smiled. "That's me! Junior Grey Warden and former templar, ready to be yelled at for all the little things that go wrong!"

"Former templar?" Tayte asked, intrigued. "Why did you leave?"

Alistair sighed. "Well, technically I wasn't ever a templar." Alistair shook his head. "Anyway, it's a long story that can be shared later. I'm sure Duncan's gathering the other recruits if he sent you to find me."

Alistair began to walk out of the temple and into the camp, and Tayte fell into step with him. "Is there anything you can tell me about this 'Joining'?" She asked hopefully.

Alistair frowned. "Sorry. You'll have to find out for yourself." Tayte noticed that Alistair made an uncomfortable face, and decided to leave him alone. It was going to be that bad.

"What about the other recruits? Who are they?"

Alistair scratched his chin in contemplation. "Let's see… we've got Daveth, a… rogue… from Denerim." Alistair shook his head. "I'm still trying to figure out what Duncan saw in him."

Tayte simply nodded, not sure what to make of this Daveth, especially on such vague information. "Anyone else?"

"Besides Daveth we have Ser Jory." Alistair began. "Large man, he towers above us all. I'm told he comes from Redcliffe, but he mentions Highever every once in a while…" Alistair didn't notice Tayte's flinch as he considered something. "He must have family there."

Tayte hesitated before taking a deep breath and saying "I hope his family didn't live in the castle, it was burned down just a few weeks ago."

Alistair's eyes went wide and he stopped in his tracks. "What? What happened in Highever?"

Tayte sighed. "Arl Howe's men attacked the castle the night after my brother took Highever's forces to Ostagar. He…" Tayte bit her lip at the memory of Oren's corpse. "…He didn't spare anyone."

Alistair took a moment to recover from the news. "Your brother… must be Fergus… and that means you must be…"

"Tayte." Tayte forced a smile. "Formerly of the Cousland family."

Alistair nodded slowly. "I'm sure there's a story behind that…" Tayte frowned, causing Alistair to change direction. "…But we should be getting back to Duncan."

Tayte nodded. "I'm interested in meeting the other recruits before this 'Joining' begins."

Alistair motioned for Tayte to follow him. "Come on; let's go to the Warden camp."

* * *

Duncan pet Morfith on the back as Ser Jory paced in front of the fire. Daveth was carving a figurine from a piece of wood, looking up every once in a while to watch Jory. Duncan gave Morfith a piece of food and walked over to Jory, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"The preparations will begin as soon as Alistair returns, save your energy until then."

Jory frowned. "I'm ready now. Why must we prepare for this ritual?"

Daveth chuckled, nearly cutting a piece of his figurine apart. "Jory, an important part of every ritual I know is preparation. Just be a bit more patient."

Jory sighed. "Fine. It's just… this waiting is making me tense."

Duncan patted Jory's shoulder and stepped toward the fire to check the stew. "It will begin soon, I promise."

Tayte and Alistair walked into the campsite, causing Jory and Daveth to look up from their tasks. Jory sighed with relief at the sight of Alistair, and Daveth let out a whistle at Tayte.

"Never knew that Grey Wardens could be such pretty things." Daveth chuckled. "Or is this not our third recruit?"

Jory glared at Daveth, causing the rogue to chuckle even more. "Quiet, Daveth. I want to get this Joining started."

Tayte sighed at Daveth's lecherous expression. Alistair stepped forward and tried to change the topic. "Well, it looks like the recruits are here, now we just need a few more… ingredients." Alistair said the last word slowly, as Duncan had begun to glare at him.

"It was unwise to anger the mages, Alistair." Duncan scolded. "We can't afford to tarnish our reputation in Ferelden."

Alistair quickly switched to the defensive. "I was… ambushed by the Revered Mother. She thought I could deliver her message well enough…"

"And you never suspected it could be an unspoken threat to the mage?' Duncan continued. "That mage no doubt knew of your templar training. I'm sure you know the implications."

Alistair sighed. "He probably thought I was there to punish him."

Duncan nodded resolutely. "Exactly. You must become more aware of such things before you get into trouble." Duncan shot a look at Daveth. "And I will have no more blatant lasciviousness. You must trust your companions as brothers and sisters."

Daveth seemed to stumble on Duncan's words. "Lassy… what?"

Duncan glared at Daveth. "You know what I said." Daveth nodded quickly and gave a little salute.

Jory paced around, impatient. "May we begin now?"

Tayte had been simply watching the entire scene, but she had enough of being a passive observer. "What's your hurry, Jory?" Tayte winced at the venom she put into the words when she may have asked the same question in mere moments. She had intended that tone to spite Daveth.

Jory seemed not to care about the tone Tayte had taken. "I want to be done with this Joining as soon as possible. I do not want to wait until tomorrow to become a Grey Warden."

Duncan nodded at Jory before speaking to all three recruits. "Before you can undergo the Joining, you must gather a vial of darkspawn blood. Each of you must do this." Tayte frowned, though Jory looked pleased. Daveth tried to be unreadable, but he let slip a concerned look. "In addition, I would like you to search for a Grey Warden outpost in the wilds."

Daveth looked at Duncan with surprise. "You mean we're going into the Korcari Wilds?"

Duncan nodded. "That is where you will find the darkspawn you need to collect the blood from. And that is where our former outpost lies."

Tayte looked over to Daveth. "What do you know about the wilds?"

Daveth looked down at his feet. "It's filled with wolves, cannibals, witches, and now darkspawn. Sometimes, even the land itself is against you." Daveth looked up. "The wilds have bogs that can swallow you whole and snowstorms that leave the entire area under a mountain of ice."

Alistair nodded. "Luckily, we don't have to go far in. There are some darkspawn stragglers, and the outpost isn't far from here."

Duncan crossed his arms and looked sternly at the three recruits. "This outpost may be in ruin, but there is an important item locked away in a chest. Grey Warden treaties from centuries past. In the coming years, these treaties may be useful in helping to rebuild the Wardens of Ferelden."

Jory looked at Tayte and Daveth. "I'm ready. I joined to kill darkspawn, doing a little searching shouldn't be much more of a strain."

Daveth shook his head and put his figurine away. "Talk for yourself, big guy. I'll do the searching if it means you get the fighting." Daveth pulled a longbow out of a protective case and filled a quiver with arrows. "I should only be another minute or so…"

Tayte felt Duncan's gaze on her, along with the gaze of the rest of the Wardens present. "I'm ready when everyone else is."

Duncan nodded. "One last thing…" He reached down and pulled out a package from a sack. He opened the package and pulled out a sheathed sword. He handed this sword to Tayte, who slowly took it and looked over the leather scabbard.

Tayte pulled the sword out and realized it bore the Highever crest on its pommel. She gasped and looked at Duncan with a questioning look.

"Your father gave it to me the afternoon we met, his tribute to the Grey Wardens." Duncan inclined his head. "I hid it to keep you focused, but I believe it should be yours."

Tayte nodded and sheathed the sword, attaching the scabbard to her belt. "Thank you, Duncan." She gave Duncan a slight bow.

Alistair made a gesture for everyone to follow him. "Come on, we've got darkspawn killing to do!"

Duncan nodded. "I'll take care of Morfith until you return." Tayte nodded and followed the other recruits as they fell into line behind Alistair. He turned around as they approached the edge of the camp.

"Everyone remember everything? Weapons? Armor? Arms? Legs?" All the recruits nodded, wondering what Alistair was stalling for. "Oh, good. Just making sure."

With that, Alistair led them out of the camp and into the Korcari Wilds.


	6. Chapter Five: The Korcari Wilds

Alistair trudged through the marshy terrain, sword drawn and his shield at the ready. Jory followed next to him, lazily twirling his huge sword. Tayte grasped her sword tight, watching for trouble from her position behind Alistair. Daveth had taken the rear guard, keeping an arrow nocked in case of an ambush.

Daveth caught up to Tayte and walked by her side, causing her to flinch at first. He kept his bow ready, but nodded at Tayte.

"I didn't notice your scar before. What happened?" Daveth asked innocently.

Tayte sighed. "A few years back, I trained with one of my father's knights. I was careless, and when I slipped his sword cut down my face."

Daveth nodded, thinking. "How come your eye is fine? That's a rather deep scar…"

"I'm not sure…" Tayte considered. "I suppose I may have gotten lucky."

Daveth opened his mouth to speak again, but he closed it when Alistair spun around and made a motion to be silent. He nudged Jory to crouch behind a withered tree and snuck over to Tayte and Daveth.

"Darkspawn right ahead." Alistair whispered. "We should take them by surprise."

Tayte and Daveth crouched down and looked around for a sign of the beasts. Nothing. Daveth raised his brow. "Where are they? I can't see them."

Alistair gestured for the group to follow him and he snuck over to a small ruin, pointing to a hill nearby. The recruits took cover and looked in the direction Alistair pointed.

"How did you know they were there?" Jory queried, taking a peek around the wall of the ruin. "It's difficult even now that I know where they are."

Alistair considered something for a moment before answering. "Grey Wardens can sense the darkspawn." Daveth looked up, but Alistair raised a hand to stop his question. "You'll learn later, after the Joining."

Tayte looked over the ruin to look at the darkspawn, but Jory was right; it was too difficult to make out anything but vaguely humanoid shapes at this distance. Alistair tapped Daveth.

"You and Tayte will circle around and surprise them from behind. Jory and I will draw their attention first; don't strike until the group gets distracted."

Daveth nodded. He motioned to Tayte, who followed him as he snuck off from the ruin. Jory and Alistair readied their weapons and continued to monitor the darkspawn group.

Tayte took a few deep breaths once she and Daveth were in position. Daveth had hidden himself behind a tree, and had his arrow still nocked. Tayte hid behind a rise in the marsh, keeping low so that she wouldn't be spotted early.

"Ready for this?" Daveth whispered. Tayte attempted a shrug, but only managed to lose her balance. After she was stable again, she gave a fake smile.

"Not sure, but I guess we'll find out."

Daveth nodded and took a deep breath. Tayte listened as Jory and Alistair shouted a battle cry, causing most of the darkspawn to growl and charge. Daveth readied his bow. "It's our turn."

Tayte sprung out of her cover and ran over to the first shape she saw. She heard Daveth's arrow take flight and bury itself in some sort of flesh before she stopped short.

The creature before her stared at her with a forced grin. It couldn't be called a smile, the creature's face resembled a skull more than a human face. Sharp, crooked teeth jutted from the monster's jaw, and off-colored saliva dripped from its maw. It didn't have any hair on its head, instead it looked as if the beast had been burned by acid. This was true for the rest of the creature's skin; grey, corrupted flesh rested on mutated bones. It carried what may have once been an axe and some armor before the same corruption on the beast had touched them.

Tayte gasped as she realized the darkspawn was no longer standing still. It charged at her, raising its axe for the kill. She stood still, rooted in place by fear.

At the last moment, and arrow whipped past Tayte's cheek and caught the monster in the elbow of its weapon arm. It groaned in pain and took a step back. Tayte finally shook away the paralyzing element of her fear and trust her sword into the creature's gut. Black ichor sprayed from the wound, covering Tayte's leather clothing and dripping off her blade. She pulled out her sword and cut the darkspawn's throat.

Tayte had little time to celebrate her first darkspawn kill. Alistair and Jory were surrounded by a group of at least five darkspawn, each fighting back-to-back to avoid being flanked. Daveth was picking off the few archers the darkspawn had among them. That still left two darkspawn who apparently had nothing better to do than attack the killer of their ally.

Tayte sighed and pulled out her dagger. She flung it at one of the darkspawn, catching it in the gut. Unfortunately, both monsters continued charging at her. Apparently darkspawn didn't feel pain the way humans did.

Tayte stood her ground until the darkspawn were almost on her before she ducked to grab some of the marshy earth. She flung the mud into the face of one of the darkspawn, blinding it and causing it to slip and fall into the marsh. Tayte smiled as she deflected the other darkspawn's attack easily. She stabbed the creature in the chest and pulled out her dagger, cutting the beast's arm before stepping back. The darkspawn howled at her before she sliced its head clean off, minus the black ichor that flowed like water from a spring after it slumped to the ground.

The darkspawn that she had tripped was trying to get to its feet, so Tayte dropped her dagger and held her sword pointing down. She raised the weapon and brought it down, gouging the darkspawn. After she was sure it was dead, she reclaimed her dagger and look up for more attackers.

Luckily, everyone else had managed to stay alive and finish off the darkspawn. Alistair was cleaning his sword by wiping it against the armor of a monster slain by Daveth's arrows. Daveth himself was posing on top of one of the archers, but eventually decided he should collect arrows instead. Jory was already filling his vial with the black blood from his kills.

"The horde won't know what hit them!" Daveth shouted as he returned to the group with a bulging quiver. Jory sighed and continued to collect blood in his flask.

"Thanks for the save, Daveth." Tayte smiled. "I would have been cut in half if you didn't distract the darkspawn."

Daveth frowned for an instant before realization came over him. "Oh! That. Yeah, don't mention it. Just helping out my 'sister,' eh?"

Tayte chuckled. Daveth smiled and pulled out his flask, beginning to fill it with darkspawn blood. Alistair appeared from examining the corpses and motioned for Tayte to come over.

Tayte sheathed her dagger and sword as she walked over to Alistair, who checked to make sure Daveth and Jory were occupied before talking.

"Did you see it?" He asked in a whisper.

Tayte frowned. "See what?"

Alistair nodded toward the hill. "At the top of the hill, there was a darkspawn archer that nearly got you. At the last moment, something distracted it and caused it to hit the one in front of you."

Tayte's face paled. "Wait, it wasn't Daveth who helped me?"

Alistair shook his head. "He'll take credit for it, I'm sure. But that darkspawn was aiming at you." Alistair shot a glance at Daveth, who was too far away to hear but was watching the exchange. He went back to collecting blood with more zeal than usual. Alistair looked back at Tayte. "At the last moment, a big wolf appeared and mauled the darkspawn. It released the arrow, but it wasn't as far off as it should have been."

Tayte scratched her head. "What do you mean?"

Alistair tapped his chest with his free hand. "I was trained as a templar, remember? I can sense a bit of magic and sometimes dispel it." He pointed at the hill. "That wolf reeked of magic, as did the arrow once it was released."

Tayte lowered her brow. "Why would a magic wolf be protecting me?"

Alistair shrugged. "I have no idea." He stepped in close, whispering into Tayte's ear. "I think it's best we don't mention this to the others. We'll tell Duncan when we get back, but I don't need the others getting any ideas."

Tayte nodded. "I'll keep it quiet."

Alistair nodded and backed away. "You may want to start filling your vial; we hopefully won't encounter any more darkspawn on the way to the ruins."

Tayte nodded and walked over to her kills, taking out her flask and filling it with blood from the darkspawn. Once she was finished, she returned to the group. Daveth and Jory were just finishing their collections, as they didn't decapitate any darkspawn. Alistair had a grim look on his face as he placed his shield on his back and drew his sword.

"The ruins shouldn't be far off. I'll lead the way, so that we don't run into any more darkspawn." Daveth raised a hand to ask something, but Alistair just shook his head. "I told you that you'll get it later."

Jory and Alistair took point once again, followed by Tayte and Daveth. Daveth shook his head and chuckled. "Of all things I could have become, I never expected to be a Grey Warden."

Tayte nodded. "I know what you mean." The image of the first darkspawn she had fought reappeared in her mind, only it didn't paralyze her this time. "But if we must defend Ferelden from the Blight, than I suppose there's no better place for us than the Wardens."

Daveth nodded. "It's a lot bigger than I ever expected to be involved in." He nocked an arrow on his bow. "Let's try to survive long enough to make it count."

Alistair pointed to a rocky path that rose just above the marshland. "Here we are. Just follow me and don't step in the bogs. You might lose a foot. Or maybe just your boot…"

The group followed Alistair further into the wilds, weapons at the ready.

* * *

Alistair led the group to a ruined outpost, almost indistinguishable from the Tevinter ruins among the marshes. He turned around and looked at the recruits one by one.

"Here we are. I'm going to be looking for the treaties, so two of you will have to take watch."

Daveth raised his bow a little. "I'll take watch. I'll let you know if anything gets too close."

Jory nodded. "I'll stay as well. Just in case more darkspawn arrive."

Alistair motioned for Tayte to follow him. "You're with me, Tayte. Let's find those treaties."

Tayte followed Alistair into the ruin and began sifting through the furniture that remained. Most of the ruin was made of stone; the rest had rotted over the years. Because of this, Tayte quickly found a wooden chest that should have been decayed.

"Over here!" Tayte called. Alistair walked over to the chest, nodding.

"It has the Grey Warden crest on the side. This has to be what we're looking for."

Tayte took one end while Alistair took the other, pulling the chest out of the muck and onto a stone slab. Alistair broke off the rusted lock and pushed the chest open, only to find the inside empty.

Tayte didn't have time to respond to the surprise she and Alistair felt. "Well, well. What have we here?" A woman's voice suddenly called out from behind them.

Tayte jolted to her feet and spun around, placing her hand on the hilt of her sword. Alistair stumbled upright and drew his own blade. Tayte paused as she saw where the voice was coming from. A pale-skinned woman scantly dressed in furs and feathers was standing between them and the entrance to the ruin.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder?" The woman mused. "A scavenger, picking from a corpse long since cleaned?"

Alistair whistled to Daveth and Jory, who ran into the ruin with their weapons at the ready. They stopped short when they saw the woman, who simply backed toward a hole in the ruin's wall to look at all the Wardens at once.

"Or are you merely _intruders_, come to these wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" The woman gave Jory a wolfish glare.

Tayte slowly pulled out her sword, causing the woman's eyes to dart toward her. Alistair shot a quick glance at Tayte.

"Careful." He warned. "She looks Chasind, there might be more nearby."

The woman laughed, reminding Tayte of the howl of a Mabari. "Do you fear that barbarians will swoop down upon you?" She directed her comment to Daveth, who took a step back and nervously tensed his grip on his bow.

"Yes." Alistair mocked. "Swooping is _bad_."

The woman smirked and stared at Alistair. Tayte realized that her eyes were a pale yellow, and glowed in the relative darkness of the ruin. "I take you were here for something important?" She crossed her arms, still smirking. "Something that is here no longer?"

"'Here no longer?' You stole them, didn't you?" Alistair growled. "You're just some sort of…" Alistair stumbled on the words, unsure of how to phrase his disgust. "…nasty… witch-thief!"

The woman laughed mockingly. "How very eloquent!" She took several steps toward Alistair, causing him to retreat a step. "'Tis a shame I wasn't the one who stole your precious documents…"

Daveth seemed to be in a near panic. "Stay back! We don't want anything to do with you witches!"

Jory scowled. "How do we know she's a witch, Daveth?"

Daveth shivered. "You haven't heard the tales, have you? The witches of the wilds look like just any other Chasind woman…"

The woman smiled before turning to face Daveth. "Witch of the Wilds. Such idle fancies." She stared at Daveth as he squirmed.

Tayte glanced at Alistair, who seemed to be still considering what to make of the woman. The supposed witch turned her yellow eyes on Tayte, grinning.

"What about you? Do you believe in such wild stories?"

Tayte lowered her head. "It doesn't matter." The woman raised her brow, surprised. Tayte looked up at her. "We came here to find something, and you seem to know what happened to it."

The woman stood still for a moment before smirking. "I see that you have little time for senseless superstition, so perhaps I will show you where your treaties are." The woman glared at Alistair. "However, you must not attempt anything. I know what you are, and what you used to be. Should you attack me, you will never find your documents."

Alistair nodded his head slowly. "Fine. Just take us to the treaties."

Daveth shuddered. "But… but…"

Jory grabbed Daveth by the shoulder. "Enough, Daveth. The faster we find the treaties the faster we can leave."

The woman gestured to Alistair to follow her, and Tayte fell into step with him. Jory nearly had to drag Daveth, but followed closely.

* * *

After nearly an hour of travel through the wilds, the Chasind woman led the group to a hut on a small island. An ancient woman sat on a stump just outside the hut, watching the group approach.

"Mother." The younger woman began. "I have brought the Grey Wardens you were expecting."

Alistair scoffed. "As if you were expecting us."

The older woman stood up chuckling. The laughter on her wrinkled and aged face unnerved Tayte. "You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide! Either way, one's a fool!"

"They're witches; we shouldn't be talking to her!" Daveth stammered.

Jory elbowed Daveth. "Quiet, Daveth. If she's really a witch, we don't want to make her mad."

The old woman smiled. "What a bright lad. Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, but so bold, so heroic…"

Alistair glared at the two women. "We came for our treaties."

The older woman chuckled. "Oh, of course you did. And I kept them so close and safe…" She bent down next to her stump and retrieved a small box. "I've renewed your magic seal, so they are safe. So safe…"

Alistair continued to glare as he snatched the box. He quickly checked its contents before nodding and stepping back.

"Ah, yes." The old woman chuckled. "You have what you came for! So you wish to leave. Suddenly leave. Leave forever. Or perhaps not…"

The younger woman smirked. "Yes, it is time for you to leave us." She stared at Alistair. "In peace."

The old woman laughed loudly, jolting Daveth. "Do not be so callous, girl! These are your guests!"

The younger woman sighed. "Fine. I will lead them to where I found them." She looked at Alistair. "And let them find their own way back from there."

Alistair nodded. "Fine. I'm ready to leave this place behind."

With that, the younger woman led the Wardens back to the ruin. Once the aged stone of the ruined outpost came into view, the woman disappeared without warning. Alistair cursed once he realized that she was gone, and grumbled the entire way back to Ostagar.

* * *

Duncan looked up from his fire as he heard footsteps approaching. Alistair was leading the group of recruits, holding a sealed box in his hands.

"I see you return from the wilds." Duncan began. "I take it you were successful?"

Alistair nodded. "We have the treaties, and each recruit has their vial of darkspawn blood."

Duncan stood up and faced Alistair and the recruits. "Alistair, keep the treaties for the time being." Alistair nodded and set the box near his things. "As for the rest of you, your Joining is at hand."

Tayte and the other recruits nodded. Daveth held out his vial of darkspawn blood. "Is there something we have to do with these…"

Duncan gave a light chuckle. "I will take those for now." The three recruits handed their vials to Duncan, who put them away in a pocket before taking a grave expression. "I will not lie; the Joining is a heavy price to pay. Fate may call you to rest sooner than others."

Tayte froze. "What do you mean?" She looked around at the other recruits, who also began to look worried. "Is this dangerous?"

Duncan frowned. "It is an ordeal, but all Grey Wardens must undertake the Joining to become one of our order. One cannot shoulder our burden without first experiencing the Joining ritual."

Jory stiffened. "Let's get it over with. I'm ready as I'll ever be."

Daveth nodded in assent. Tayte looked into Duncan's dark eyes, trying to find some clue there. Nothing. She lowered her head.

"I'm…" Tayte reflected on her old life. The nights in her room with Morfith and her books. The days she spent with Mother Mallol in the chapel. The sparring matches with her father and Roland.

Tayte raised her head again. That life was over. Tayte Cousland died in that castle. Now she was Tayte the Grey Warden. _In death, sacrifice._

"I'm ready to undergo the Joining." Tayte intoned, resolute.


	7. Chapter Six: The Joining

"The more I hear of this Joining the less I like it." Jory muttered, pacing. He idly tapped his sword as he counted his steps across the stone floor.

Daveth scowled. "Are you blubbering again?" He leaned on a pillar, glaring at Jory.

Tayte stood with her arms crossed, watching the entrance to the ruined temple. It was the same building where she had first met Alistair. She wondered if the mage that he had argued with had a part in the Joining.

"Why all these damned tests?" Jory growled, throwing up his arms. "I have slain dozens of darkspawn, have I not earned my place?"

Daveth shook his head. "Maybe it's tradition." He shot Jory a nasty look. "Maybe they just want to annoy you."

Tayte sighed. "I think this ritual may be more involved. It seemed to require quite a bit of preparation."

Jory looked at Tayte, trying to understand what she meant. Failing that, he sighed and looked away. "All I know is that I have a wife in Highever." Tayte coughed, too surprised to catch herself. Jory continued on, ignoring Tayte's sudden reaction. "She has a child on the way."

Daveth stood up straight and took an expression that seemed to be a mix of surprise and disgust. "Are you mad? Why did you… you…"

Jory scowled at Daveth. "Why did I what?"

Tayte took in a deep breath to clear her lungs and walked over to Jory. "Jory, Blights last decades. _Centuries_."

"You aren't going to see your wife again, even if we succeed." Daveth continued.

Jory stepped back, indignant. "I joined the Grey Wardens to do my duty so that I could return home knowing that my family was safe!" Jory lashed at Daveth, barely missing him as he hopped away. "Why didn't they tell me that I wouldn't see my family again?"

Tayte sighed. "You should have known sooner." Jory glared at her, disbelieving.

Daveth stepped back in. "Jory, they wouldn't tell you even if you didn't know to begin with. How many people would willingly sacrifice everything to join the Grey Wardens?"

Jory scowled. "It doesn't seem fair." He turned to Tayte. "How did you know that we can't return home?" He spun around to Daveth. "What about you, cutpurse?"

Tayte grabbed Jory by the shoulder. The big man shrugged her off, but she didn't move away. "I was raised with lessons on history. Lessons I thought you would have learned."

Jory grumbled. "That doesn't explain you, Daveth."

Daveth sighed. "I figured it out on my own. Why else would Duncan have recruited me, of all people? A man with nothing left to lose?"

Jory looked as if he was about to pummel Daveth. He had a hand on his sword, grasping the hilt tight. Suddenly he broke down, falling to his knees. Tayte and Daveth stepped back, startled.

"I was the victor in a tournament at Redcliffe." Jory sobbed, beginning to cry. "My wife was there, cheering for me the entire week." Jory looked up at Tayte and Daveth. "Duncan approached me after the tournament and asked me to join the Grey Wardens. He promised…" Jory shook his head and sobbed into his hands. "He promised my wife would be safe if I defeated the Blight. He never told me… that I would never…"

Tayte watched in pity as the big man cried. She wanted to do something, but she had never learned how to comfort others…

Daveth patted the big man on the shoulder. "The Grey Wardens have to be strong. Do this for your pretty wife and unborn child."

Jory choked back tears and slowly got to his feet, assisted by Daveth. "I… must make my child proud of me." Jory looked up at Daveth, resolute. "I have to carry on."

Tayte heard footsteps from behind her as Jory regained his composure. She turned around to see Duncan and Alistair walking into the temple. Duncan held a silver chalice, taking it to the table in the center of the building before turning to face the recruits.

"At last we come to the Joining." He intoned, letting his eyes linger on each recruit for several seconds. "Ever since the Grey Wardens were founded at Weisshaupt during the First Blight, the Joining has been the initiation into our order." Duncan held a hand out to the chalice, which Tayte saw was filled with a dark liquid. "There in that ancient fortress, men and women first drank of darkspawn blood." Duncan stared into the recruits' eyes. "And mastered their taint."

All the recruits gasped in unison. Jory recovered first, stumbling on his words. "You… you mean we're going to drink the blood of those…" Jory shuddered. "Those creatures?"

Alistair had been standing to the side, but stepped forward now. "The ones who survive the Joining are immune to the taint, and can sense it in other darkspawn."

"It's like becoming the demon to slay the demon." Tayte mused.

Duncan nodded. "This is the source of our power and our victory. Without this ritual, the First Blight would have destroyed humanity."

Daveth gave Jory a pat on the shoulder. "Good luck, eh?"

Duncan took an even more serious expression, looking to Alistair. "We only speak a few words prior to the Joining, but these have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair inclined his head for a moment before reciting the oath he must have known well.

"_Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us in the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that you will not have died in vain, and that one day we will join you_."

Duncan added the final words, looking to Daveth, then Jory, then Tayte.

_"In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice."_

Alistair nodded and took a step back. Jory stepped from foot to foot, anxious. Tayte and Daveth held their breath, worried.

Duncan retrieved the chalice from the table and lifted it gently. He turned to face the recruits. "Daveth, step forward."

Daveth took a few anxious steps forward, presenting himself to Duncan. Duncan handed him the chalice slowly, allowing Daveth to look into the dark liquid. Daveth closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He lifted the chalice to his lips and drank.

Duncan pulled the chalice away from Daveth suddenly. Daveth looked mildly surprised for a moment before he doubled over. Tayte flinched as Daveth suddenly began to grasp at his throat and scream horrifically. Jory gasped and took a step back.

"Maker's breath!" Jory exclaimed, trying to keep his composure.

Both Tayte and Jory felt their hearts drop as the scream suddenly ended and Daveth slammed into the floor. There was a sickening crack as his skull cracked against the stone. Both recruits knew he was dead before he fell.

"I am sorry, Daveth." Duncan mused sadly, looking up to Jory. "Step forward, Jory."

Jory looked at Daveth's corpse and back to Duncan. He took another step back. "No, I can't do this."

Duncan lowered his brow. He took a step toward Jory, causing the knight to slowly draw his blade. Alistair simply watched, an emotionless mask on his face. Tayte's heart froze, already sensing the outcome.

Jory began to breathe quickly, heart racing as he tried to escape Duncan. "No, you ask too much! There's no glory in this!"

Duncan sighed. "There is no turning back."

Jory threatened to bring his sword down on Duncan, face contorted into a primal expression of rage and fear. That rage was suddenly replaced by surprise and pain, as Duncan had drawn a knife and pierced Jory's heart too quickly for the young knight to respond.

"I am sorry…" Duncan sighed as he pulled the knife from the dying man, still holding the chalice in his other hand.

Tayte's eyes were still fixated on Jory as he bled to death when Duncan turned to her, a grim expression on his face.

"The Joining is not complete, Tayte." He warned. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good."

Tayte's heart raced. Her every instinct told her to flee. She could _feel_ the unnatural presence of the darkspawn blood. She gasped as she realized that the chalice was mere inches from her. She looked pleadingly into Duncan's eyes. There was no remorse, no pity.

Tayte attempted futilely to slow her breathing, but only managed to let more fear crawl into her heart. She slowly grasped the chalice, staring into the black, corrupted ichor. She raised the chalice to her lips, trying to control the shaking in her arms. She let some of the vile substance slide into her mouth before having the chalice taken away.

Tayte's throat burned and her mind raced as the darkspawn blood worked into her system. Her breathing became irregular, her pulse out of control. She screamed in terror as she collapsed to the floor. She tried to hold herself up, but blackness overtook her.

* * *

Tayte found herself in a blighted wasteland. She tried to take a deep breath, only to find that she couldn't breathe at all. She panicked, reaching for her throat. She felt nothing, and looked down to see that her hands were blackened and corrupt.

Tayte felt herself gripped with fear. She clawed at herself, trying to draw blood, anything to prove she was still alive. She only succeeded in causing black ichor to drip to the ground. She tried to scream, letting out a bestial cry of agony when she felt none.

Suddenly, the fear disappeared. Instead, an intense longing came into her being. She sat calmly for a moment before standing up. She barely noticed that she was covered in corrupted flesh and stripped of clothing. She wanted to find something, needed to find it, no matter what the cost…

A low hum came into her perception. She let out a guttural sigh of pleasure and followed the sound. After a few minutes, the hum had become a song. A beautiful voice called out longingly, something beyond human or darkspawn. Something deific.

Tayte stumbled toward the supernatural presence behind the melody. She started slowly, uncertain of her balance. She quickly gained confidence and began to walk quickly. She broke out into a run, wanting to be as close to the song as possible. She continued to run, untiring, until she reached a large hill. She stopped at the base, looking up through milky eyes.

Hundreds of feet above her stood the most majestic creature in existence. The creature must have been a high dragon, maybe more. It was taller than fortresses, larger than most hills. It's purple and decaying flesh brought euphoria to Tayte, sensing ultimate perfection. It spat purple flames in a show of its power, and Tayte gaped in awe.

The deity of dragons and more looked down at Tayte with a tortured eye. It ceased humming, but the power it held over Tayte remained. She knew that this was a wonderful creature, worthy of her attention. The dragon moved its mouth, but Tayte didn't hear its flawless voice with her rotted ears. Instead, she felt the god in her soul.

_You have joined the order that walks in shadows to protect the light. While once we may have been allies, now we must fight._

The dragon's voice betrayed sadness, remorse, pity. But also arrogance, pride. A flawed being.

_You now have a choice, warden of the grey. Should you fail, the world will pay._

_All I ask is to end my plight; though doing so will not end the Blight._

Tayte's being was filled with despair, disillusionment. _I have come so far for a false god…_

Tayte's mind fractured, unable to cope with the loss of her deity. Her flesh began to burn, and she screamed in agony that burned deeper than any wound ever could. Her world ended in a flash of white.

* * *

Tayte jolted awake, gasping for breath. She cried out, suddenly feeling the pressure of her leather clothing and the coldness of the stone floor and the night chill of winter. Alistair and Duncan were standing over her, faces unreadable. Tayte rasped, trying to regulate her breathing.

Duncan gave a sad smile. "And so it is finished." He leaned down and stretched out a hand. "Welcome."

Tayte took the hand, letting Duncan pull her up as memory flashed back into her. She was in the ruined temple in Ostagar, on the eve of battle with the darkspawn. She had just survived a ritual that had claimed the life of one of her companions and led to the death of another.

"How are you feeling?" Duncan asked, grabbing Tayte firmly by the shoulder to steady her.

Tayte took a few deep breaths before answering. "I'll… live… I think…"

Duncan let go of Tayte's shoulder, allowing her to walk over to a pillar and lean on it. Alistair studied her. "Did you have dreams?" He queried. "I had terrible dreams when I went through the Joining."

Tayte nodded. "It was…" Tayte couldn't place her feelings on the strange experience. "I felt… betrayed."

Duncan patted Tayte on the shoulder. "Such dreams come now that you are a Grey Warden."

Alistair nodded. "You'll be seeing the Archdemon now that it's a Blight, that's how we know it's here." Alistair sighed before continuing. "I'm told that recruits that undergo the Joining during a Blight have the least chance of survival." Alistair gave a weak smile to Tayte. "I lost someone in my Joining when it was easier, so I'm glad at least one of you made it."

Tayte nodded and tried to organize her thoughts. "I… may need some time…"

Duncan held up a hand. "You will be given a place in the camp to rest for tonight, but there is one last thing we must do." He motioned to Alistair.

Alistair held out a necklace with a small orb attached to it. Tayte saw that the orb was hollow on the inside, holding a small amount of a dark substance she knew well. "We each receive an amulet with some of the blood used in the Joining." Tayte took the amulet, letting the tiny chain links slide through her hands. "It's to remind us…" Alistair looked down and sighed sadly. "Of those who didn't make it this far."

Tayte slowly pulled the amulet over her head and let the amulet rest over her chest. She looked to Duncan, the fatigue easily visible in her eyes. "I need to rest…"

Duncan nodded, cracking a small smile. "I know you have had a trying day. Alistair will guide you to your tent."

Tayte smiled at Alistair. "I think it's time for me to get some rest…"

Alistair motioned for Tayte to follow him. "Don't worry about getting a nap if you need one." He checked to make sure Tayte was keeping in step with him. "The visions usually only come once every day or so."

Tayte yawned. "I'm going to need a real nap, not that nightmare."

Alistair chuckled. "I'll be sure to wake you before the horde descends and eats you."

Tayte shook her head, hiding a smile. "Good to know I can rely on you for that much, at least."


	8. Chapter Seven: The Battle of Ostagar

"Tayte, wake up."

Tayte yawned and swatted at the unwelcome voice. "I'm not done sleeping yet."

She heard a snort. "You've been asleep all day."

Tayte sighed and rubbed her eyes. She sat up in her bedroll, looking up to see Alistair peeking through the flap of her tent. She noticed that large fires had been started to keep the night chill away.

"You're kidding me." Tayte tumbled over in her blanket, trying to get up. "How did I sleep for so long?"

Alistair chuckled. "Um, maybe you were sleepy?"

"Very funny." Tayte responded, reaching for her leather clothing. She noticed that it had been replaced with some sort of armor. She ran her hand over its metal rings.

"Oh, Duncan decided you could use some real armor." Alistair noted.

Tayte nodded. "I suppose that makes sense, with the darkspawn almost here." She stood up and held out the armor for closer inspection.

Alistair nodded. "Anyway, I just thought you should be awake when it hits."

Tayte shrugged. "Thanks." As Alistair's head retreated, she suddenly realized what he had said. "Wait, what?"

Alistair poked his head back in with a smirk. "The hunger will be hitting you _any_ moment now."

* * *

Tayte had never felt so hungry in her life. She started to feel self-conscious after devouring her fourth helping of stew, but still felt hungry enough to bother Duncan for more. He chuckled at the nervous look on her face as he spooned some non-burnt stew into her bowl. She nodded in thanks before scampering off, taking a seat next to Alistair in front of the fire. Some of the other Grey Wardens were present, but she didn't feel comfortable enough to make any new friends yet.

Alistair was thumbing a small token when Tayte sat down. He was staring right into the fire, rubbing the coin with a preoccupied hand. Tayte's hunger reminded her that she had more important things to think of, and she decided to let it go for now.

The evening passed comfortably enough for the impending danger that all were aware of. One by one, many of the wardens stood and left to take up their positions. According to Duncan, the darkspawn would arrive just after midnight.

Alistair shoved his token into a pocket of his armor and smiled at Tayte. "I suppose you're not going to be as tired as the rest of the army when the darkspawn arrive."

Tayte shrugged, laying her empty bowl aside. "Why? Have they not been able to sleep?"

Alistair faked a frown. "Aw, come on! I wanted to tell you that!"

Tayte rolled her eyes. "I don't think_ I_ would be able to sleep knowing that the darkspawn are coming to kill us." Alistair opened his mouth to respond, but Tayte cut him off. "Before I was submitted to a nightmare like that Joining."

Alistair sighed. "Well, you're just so intelligent. You should be leading the army with Loghain." Alistair punched Tayte lightly on the shoulder.

Tayte chuckled. "Right, because knowing that people are scared of mindless killers is so hard."

Alistair's eyes widened. "Wait, people are scared of mindless killers?" He looked around, faking surprise. "Why didn't anyone tell me this?"

Tayte laughed quietly as Duncan approached. "I trust you two are enjoying yourselves?" He looked as if he was holding back a smile. Tayte nodded.

"Is the battle starting soon?" Alistair asked.

Duncan nodded. "Yes. And the king has a special mission for you two."

Tayte looked up in surprise. "The king?"

"Yes, he specifically chose you two for an important task." Duncan replied.

"What kind of task?" Alistair asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"You two are to ascend the Tower of Ishal and make sure that the beacon is lit. That is the signal for Loghain's flanking maneuver."

Tayte frowned. "How will we know when to light the beacon?"

Duncan looked at Alistair. "Alistair can tell you when the signal is given. We have a special sign for cases such as this."

Alistair hung his head. "But we won't be in the battle."

Duncan laid a hand on Alistair's shoulder. "We will be fine, Alistair. There will be plenty of battles in our future."

Alistair nodded, standing up. "Well, we shouldn't wait around."

Tayte grabbed her sword and stood up as well. "We should get to the tower before the battle starts, just in case something happens."

Duncan nodded to the two wardens. "I must leave to accompany the king. Be safe." Duncan turned to leave.

"Duncan." Alistair called. Duncan stopped to look back at Alistair. "May the Maker watch over you."

Duncan smiled sadly. "May he watch over us all."

* * *

"Morfith, come here!"

The Mabari hound's head perked up at the sound of his master. He spun around and saw Tayte leaving the camp with Alistair. He barked once and ran all the way over to them.

"Some hound you have there." Alistair remarked. "Could come in handy if the darkspawn attack the tower."

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." Tayte replied.

The three crossed the bridge over the valley below Ostagar, where most of the army had set up a barricade. Alistair held up a hand to stop Tayte and pointed out at the forest leading to the Korcari Wilds.

"They're here."

* * *

Cailan gritted his teeth as he surveyed his men. Each of them was armed with the best gray iron and steel weapons that his smiths could produce. They all wore the finest armor that could be crafted. The Ash Warriors and their Mabari hounds were defending every weak point in the barricade. Archers stood on tall balconies, keeping them safe from ground troops. Chantry priests burned incense, giving the soldiers hope that the Maker was on their side. Even the fabled Grey Wardens had joined the army, holding the most important positions in the field. The leader of the prestigious order stood behind him.

But it wouldn't be enough.

Cailan felt it. This battle was unwinnable. There was some hint of it in the cold night air; he could feel it in his core. There was something sinister, something that wasn't present before. Even after winning three major battles, the darkspawn weren't dwindling. Perhaps this was the Archdemon that Duncan spoke of. Perhaps Loghain's scouts had underestimated their foe.

Duncan felt the hesitation in the young king and shifted uncomfortably. Cailan knew that the Grey Warden thought he was brash and reckless. And he was probably right. He had pushed aside help from his uncle Eamon, a force almost as large as his current army, simply because he wanted to prove that the darkspawn were no match for him. How many darkspawn had he slain in the last battle alone?

Cailan examined his father's sword. The dragonbone began to glow faintly, a sign that darkspawn were near. He sighed. His father was a legend. Ferelden has mourned for years when he was lost at sea five years ago. They still mourned for him now.

Would they mourn for Cailan?

Cailan wasn't asking for much. He just wanted to be remembered. His father's legacy had affected entire nations, but his son was left with a newly freed country that needed a leader. Cailan was going to make sure he was Ferelden's king, the man who would bring them up from the ashes of the occupation and rebuild to become a nation rivaling Orlais and the Tevinter Imperium.

The darkspawn were only a passing threat. No one wanted to admit it, but Ferelden was still on the brink of collapse. Even when the darkspawn were driven back to their underground lairs, there were still wars to be won and alliances to be made.

The first alliance would be Orlais, the very nation that had oppressed Ferelden. Without its support, Ferelden would fall. Loghain would never approve of such an alliance. Cailan cursed inwardly as he remembered when Eamon had sent him the letter implying that Anora, Loghain's daughter and Cailan's wife, was barren. It should have been a match made by the Maker himself; the son of King Maric and the daughter of Loghain Mac Tir. But Anora was not interested in a legacy, in heirs. She was interested in power.

Cailan shuddered when he thought of what he had to do when he returned to Denerim. He would have to annul the marriage to Anora. There was no question; he could not be the last of the Theirin line. Even if it meant marrying _her_. Loghain would never approve. But she was the only one that seemed genuinely interested in Ferelden's safety, in the Theirin legacy.

And he loved her.

Cailan was shaken from his thoughts as his sword began to glow more strongly. He took a deep breath and looked out over his men one last time before the darkspawn charged. He heard Duncan take a step forward.

"The plan will work, your majesty."

Cailan set his fierce blue eyes on the darkspawn horde, now emerging from the wilds. He would fight for _her_.

"Of course it will!" Cailan raised his shining sword and shouted out to his men. "The Blight ends here!"

* * *

Tayte shuddered as she watched the darkspawn horde descend upon the barricade that the army defended. Alistair grabbed her shoulder and shouted over the sounds of battle.

"We need to hurry to the tower!"

Tayte nodded and followed Alistair as he ran toward the massive building. Morfith sprinted, keeping pace with Tayte as best he could.

Tayte realized something was wrong as they reached the tower entrance. Two men were bleeding out, their injuries too severe to treat. A Circle mage was attempting to alleviate their pain, but failed at stopping the bleeding. A guard that wasn't wounded ran up to Alistair as the group approached.

"Darkspawn have attacked the tower from the inside. We need our reinforcements."

"We are your reinforcements." Tayte called out.

The guard cursed. "You're all that the king sent?"

Alistair nodded. "We're Grey Wardens. We'll handle the darkspawn."

The guard sighed. "I'll guard the entrance, then. Good luck." He drew his sword and motioned for the mage to open the door to the tower. "You'll need it."

Tayte drew her sword, as did Alistair. A darkspawn ran out as the door opened, only to be mauled by Morfith. Alistair ran in and began fighting off darkspawn that had cornered a group of soldiers. Tayte darted toward a darkspawn carrying a wooden staff, guessing that it could be a mage.

The darkspawn noticed Tayte's approach, flinging a lightning bolt at the soldiers that it had been targeting. It turned and gathered fire into its hands. Tayte pulled her knife out of its sheath and flung it at the darkspawn. The knife stabbed into the creature's thigh, disrupting its concentration and causing the fire to fizzle out.

Tayte had closed the distance between her and the darkspawn before it recovered. She brought her sword down, hoping for a quick kill. Instead, the beast brought up its staff in a parry before knocking Tayte across the face with the back end.

Tayte spat out blood and backed away. The darkspawn mage flourished its staff and let out a blast of force, knocking Tayte to the ground. She struggled to get back up, barely blocking another blow from the monster's staff.

The darkspawn growled at Tayte, baring its rotted fangs. Tayte ignored the threat and took a step back. She waited for the darkspawn to bring up its staff for a magical attack before she sprung forward and punched the darkspawn with her free hand. She grabbed hold of the surprised beast by the shoulder and pulled back her sword to drive through its heart.

Before Tayte could act, the darkspawn mage sunk its free claw in Tayte's right check and singed her face. She pushed the darkspawn away and staggered back. She felt the blood dripping from the wound, but chose to ignore it for now.

The darkspawn showed no signs of tiring or misjudgment. It circled Tayte, trying to find an opening. It saw something behind Tayte and gave a crude hand signal.

Tayte stepped aside, purely by coincidence, just in time to avoid being stabbed in the back by another darkspawn. This one held twin daggers, crooked and curved like all darkspawn equipment. It snarled at Tayte, watching her with milky-gray eyes.

The darkspawn attacked suddenly, catching Tayte off-guard. It came at her again and again, almost too quick for her parries. The darkspawn mage lifted rubble from the ground and flung it at her, making it difficult to concentrate on blocking.

Tayte began to feel her arms weigh heavily on her. She could barely hold up her sword when she saw an opening. The darkspawn mage was preparing a blast of fire, circling around to hit Tayte from behind. Meanwhile, the darkspawn knife-wielder twirled its daggers in preparation for another barrage.

Tayte parried the multiple blows from the daggers, listening for the crackling of the fire blast. When she heard it coming, she ducked and rolled out of the way. She quickly stood and spun around.

The darkspawn mage howled as it realized that it had incinerated its own ally, which was now a pile of ashes. Tayte ran up to the distracted mage and slid her sword through its throat. It gargled, black blood coursing through its mouth and wound. Tayte removed her sword and punched the darkspawn to the floor.

Tayte returned to where Alistair was still fighting darkspawn and backstabbed any that let their guard down. Alistair held the line for the remaining soldiers, battering away darkspawn with his shield and swinging his sword in wide arcs when darkspawn began to swarm.

After several heated minutes of conflict, the darkspawn were dead. Alistair turned to one of the soldiers and asked where the darkspawn were coming from. The soldier led them to a hole in the floor, leading deep into the earth.

"A hole like that probably leads to the battle below." Tayte noted.

Alistair nodded. His face tensed in indecision.

Morfith padded over to Tayte, mouth caked with black ichor. He smiled and licked his snout clean. Tayte clenched her teeth, wondering what would happen if Morfith swallowed too much of the darkspawn blood…

"We need to light the beacon." Alistair suddenly decided. "The king is counting on us."

Tayte nodded, preoccupied. "Um, Alistair? What does darkspawn blood do to dogs?"

Alistair looked over at Morfith. "Duncan said he put your dog through the Joining. Don't worry about him."

Tayte lowered her brow, surprised and confused. "Wait, what?"

Alistair shook his head. "We can talk later. Let's go light the beacon." He pointed to the round stairway leading to the beacon. "We've surely missed the signal by now."

* * *

Duncan sliced the throat of a darkspawn with his sword as he buried his dagger into another. Removing his weapons from the dead creatures, he focused on another. The darkspawn turned to find two daggers buried in its chest. It sighed in pain and fell to the ground as Duncan pulled out his weapons.

Duncan was worried. Alistair should have seen the signal already. Every Grey Warden on the field had been shining their Joining amulets using amplified glow stones taken from the Deep Roads. Alistair should recognize the signal, even though he didn't have his glow stone yet.

Duncan plunged his dagger into a twitching darkspawn before lifting up his amulet and shining its light at the Tower of Ishal once again. If Alistair didn't light the beacon soon, the battle would be lost.

Duncan pulled his dagger out of the dead darkspawn and turned to find a new target before he froze. A horrible growl rumbled the ground beneath him. He gasped. Only one creature could make a noise like that.

Duncan turned to see an Ogre tossing soldiers aside. Ogres never left the Deep Roads except during a Blight. Duncan had prayed that his visions of the Archdemon and the Blight were false, but here before him was proof almost as compelling as the Archdemon itself.

Duncan tried to see what the Ogre was trying to get to before he started cutting through a mob of darkspawn. The beast was after King Cailan!

Duncan maimed and killed every darkspawn that tried to stop him as he approached the King, hoping to warn him. Before he could get to the King, the Ogre snatched Cailan from the ground, pulling him up to its maw.

The Ogre looked into Cailan's eyes. Duncan could see the fear from where he stood. The Ogre roared before crunching the young king in its iron grip. Cailan's blood sprayed from his mouth and nose, and his armor crushed his chest. Duncan cursed, shouting curses as he cut down the last of the darkspawn between him and the Ogre.

The massive beast looked dismissingly on Duncan before tossing the mutilated king at him, knocking Duncan to the ground.

Duncan tried his best to remain conscious, feeling the weight of Cailan's armor on him. He pushed Cailan off of him, fighting his concussion. He looked down at the king and gasped in horror. The man that had ruled Ferelden was dead.

Duncan looked up in anger at the Ogre, which was roaring in victory. Duncan picked his weapons off the ground and inclined his head for Cailan.

_In peace, vigilance._

Duncan began to walk toward the Ogre, testing his balance.

_In war, victory._

Duncan stretched his arms, making sure that his muscles were string enough for the task ahead.

_In death, sacrifice._

Duncan took a deep breath and charged at the Ogre. He began to cry out in anger, causing the Ogre to look at him. Duncan leaped into the air and brought his weapons into the Ogre's chest. The beast roared in pain, black blood flowing from its deep wounds.

Duncan pulled his dagger from the monster and stabbed into a place higher on the Ogre's chest. He did the same with his sword. He pulled out his dagger again and thrust it into the Ogre's neck. He twisted the dagger, drawing black ichor from the fatal wound.

The Ogre screamed one last time before toppling over, landing on its back. Duncan rode the beast to the ground, releasing his weapons. He stood over the beast, having avenged the king's death.

Duncan suddenly felt the pain of his many injuries. He bent over, unable to stand straight. He gasped for breath as he stumbled over to the king's body. Duncan knelt, unable to stand from his wounds. He placed a hand on Cailan's body to steady himself.

"I am sorry, Cailan." Duncan whispered. "I wasn't fast enough to save you."

Duncan heard the screams of dying men as he looked up. The darkspawn had killed the last of Cailan's elite guard.

Duncan looked up at the Tower of Ishal. As he raised his head, he saw a flame begin to catch and burn, lighting the beacon. But it was too late.

Duncan saw the darkspawn charging toward him. He stood for one last time, defiant. He used a dagger left on the ground to fight the darkspawn until at last one knocked him to the ground. A darkspawn wearing heavy armor brought an axe down on Duncan's head, ending the Grey Warden's life.

* * *

Alistair dropped the torch he had used to light the beacon, turning and drawing his weapons.

"Loghain's forces need to charge or the king will die." Alistair muttered.

Tayte was about to assure him that he had done his part when she gasped in pain. She knelt down, grasping at the arrow in her gut.

Alistair's eyes went wide, turning to face the darkspawn that had ascended the tower behind them. He and Morfith fought against them, but where quickly overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Tayte tried to keep her wound from bleeding out, but she felt her consciousness fading away. She cursed at the cruelty and pain she had suffered and endured only to die alone anyway.

* * *

_AN: Because of nearly obvious inspiration/ideasteal, I thought I'd share what I was thinking of during certain scenes:_

_Cailan's Thoughts: Return to Ostagar_

_Tayte vs. Darkspawn Mage: Dragon Age II "Destiny" Trailer_

_Duncan's Final Stand: Noble Six's Final Stand in Halo: Reach_


	9. Chapter Eight: Morrigan

Tayte woke with a groan and clenched her fists as pain welled up within her sore limbs. She shook with pain, trying to remember what had happened. _Alistair lit the beacon, didn't he?_ Tayte slowly opened her eyes, hoping to see the faces of the Grey Wardens that she had put off seeing. Maybe Duncan had come to see her recover…

"So your eyes finally open" mocked a dark-haired woman in a familiar outfit of furs and feathers. "Mother will be pleased."

Tayte sighed and cursed inwardly. "Where am I?"

The woman smirked. "In the wilds, of course. Were you asleep even before mother rescued you?"

Tayte rubbed her face with a shivering hand. She was in some sort of hut, likely the place where Alistair had found the treaties in the wilds. She suddenly realized that she had been stripped bare, and was only hidden from the woman by a thick blanket. Tayte took a deep breath to conceal her surprise and embarrassment before responding. "I remember nothing. Alistair—" Tayte paused, watching the woman's face smirk in derision. "My companion had lit the beacon on the tower, and then the darkspawn ambushed us…"

The woman nodded. "Ah. So you did not see the tide of battle changing as you were plucked from the tower."

Tayte looked up in confusion. "What?"

The woman sighed and sat on a stool, idly lifting a book from its place on a shelf and flipping through the pages. "My mother rescued you and your friend from the tower by taking the form of a giant bird. I'm told it was a harrowing escape." She watched Tayte's face for a reaction. Seeing that Tayte was still confused, she continued. "As you were spirited away, your friend watched as the man who was to answer your call quit the field."

Tayte frowned. "That means the darkspawn won, doesn't it?"

"I'm afraid so." The woman continued to flip through the book, and began to read after a few pages. "My name is Morrigan, by the way."

Tayte nodded. "I'm Tayte."

Morrigan pointed at a pile of armor and clothing next to the bed. "We managed to salvage some of your equipment, but the rest needs to be replaced."

Tayte looked down to see what Morrigan meant. While her clothing had been stitched back together, her armor was almost unrecognizable. The Joining amulet lay coiled over the woolen clothing, glinting slightly in the light from a fireplace. Her sword was still in its scabbard, and a dagger lay beside it. None of Tayte's other belongings were present.

After checking to see that Morrigan was still reading, Tayte slipped out of the blankets and pulled her clothes back on. She noticed that her boots had been resized for her feet, and slipped them on. She placed the Joining amulet around her neck and picked up her family sword. Deciding it was wise to check the sharpness of the blade, Tayte began to pull it out of the scabbard.

Tayte heard a sharp cough from Morrigan, but paid her no mind. She continued to pull out the sword until the shattered tip bared itself.

Tayte gasped. She dropped the scabbard and looked pleadingly at Morrigan. The other woman merely shrugged and closed her book. "The rest was left upon the tower."

Tayte turned away and tossed the broken sword aside with a growl. She took several deep breaths as she tried to compose herself, trying to keep from lashing out. That sword was one of the few connections she had to her old life. Tayte stooped down and picked up her dagger, attaching it to her belt. She left the armor alone, seeing it would hardly do any good.

"Mother is waiting for you outside." Morrigan mused. Tayte looked at her, unsure of whether she was ready to meet the old woman again. "As is your friend." Morrigan added.

Tayte's change in disposition was noticeable, and Morrigan smirked when she saw the Tayte head for the door immediately.

Morrigan placed the book back on its shelf as she watched Tayte leave. "I will stay." Morrigan was speaking more to herself than the warden. "And make something to eat."

* * *

Tayte held up a hand to cover the sunlight as she walked out of the hut, nearly blinded by being in the dim building. She looked around, finding Alistair sitting on a stump underneath a large willow tree. Much of the leaves in the area had begun to turn color, placing Tayte's rescue several weeks ago. Before she had time to consider this, the old woman from before seemed to appear from the willow tree as she approached Tayte.

"Here is your fellow Grey Warden!" The woman called. Alistair looked up, surprised. The old woman smiled. "You worry too much, young man. I told you she would recover."

Alistair stood up slowly and walked toward Tayte. She walked toward him and the old woman until she was only a few feet away from Alistair. He examined her face for almost a minute before a small smile crept into his features.

"It's really you. You're better!" Alistair threw his arms around Tayte, surprising her at first. Blushing, she gave him a small pat on the back to keep from getting more embarrassed.

"I'm better." Tayte confirmed. Alistair pulled back, smirking. He looked like he was about to laugh before he turned sullen.

"Have you heard what happened at Ostagar, then?" He asked.

Tayte nodded slowly. "Yes. Morrigan told me."

Alistair sighed and started pacing. "They're all dead. Cailan, Duncan, everyone."

Tayte looked down. "So would we if Morrigan's mother hadn't saved us."

The old woman cleared her throat, getting the attention of both wardens.

"I'm sorry, it's just…" Alistair stuttered. "We never heard your name. What do we call you?"

"Names are pretty, but useless." The old woman snorted. "The Chasind call me by the name 'Flemeth.' I suppose it will do."

Alistair gasped. "So you're… _the_ Flemeth? From the legends?" He looked at Tayte worriedly before turning back to Flemeth. "Daveth was right. You're a Witch of the Wilds."

Flemeth chuckled. "Yes, I am an apostate mage. And without me, you would be dead on the top of a tower, if I recall."

Alistair sighed. "Fine. It doesn't matter now anyway." He sulked and began pacing again.

Tayte gently grabbed Alistair by the shoulder. "What are we supposed to do now?" She asked. "The darkspawn are still out there, don't we have to stop them?"

"How?" Alistair retorted. "We have no army! Loghain left with his forces, and the King is dead!"

"Can't we find Loghain and prepare for the darkspawn before they strike again?" Tayte pleaded.

Alistair flung Tayte's hand off his shoulder. "Don't you understand, Tayte?" He growled. "Loghain betrayed us! Duncan is dead because of him!"

Tayte took a step back, shocked at Alistair's sudden fury. She tried to keep eye contact with Alistair. "We need an army, Alistair. We can't fight the Blight on our own!"

He stormed over to her and shoved her back a step. "I'm not siding with the man who killed Duncan! I'd rather die than work with that traitor!"

Tayte rubbed her shoulder where Alistair had shoved her. She shot Alistair an angry glance. "Would you let Duncan's death be in vain? Would you let Ferelden fall just because of your hate?"

Alistair threw his hands up in the air. "This isn't about me! This is about the man who killed the King!"

Flemeth placed herself between the two angry wardens and looked at both of them in turn. "If you are unwilling to choose the obvious answer, you may have more at your disposal than you think."

Tayte stared at Flemeth, confused. Alistair did the same for a few moments before his eyes widened and he ran over to his stump to rifle through his pack. "Of course! I should have thought of it sooner!"

Flemeth motioned for Tayte to follow before walking over to the willow tree. Tayte followed, curious. Alistair pulled out a small box with the Grey Warden seal on it, holding it up to Tayte as he stood.

"The treaties! Grey Wardens can call for help from the other races and factions in Ferelden, they're obligated to help during a Blight!"

Tayte silently asked to see the box by holding out her hands, and Alistair handed the container over. Tayte opened the seal and looked through the treaties.

"We can ask for help from Orzammar, the Dalish, and the Circle of Magi." Tayte mused, rifling through the papers. "There's even a few suggestions for other allies, like Redcliffe and the Avvars."

"Redcliffe!" Alistair exclaimed, causing Tayte and Flemeth to stare at him. "Arl Eamon's armies weren't at Ostagar, they might still be at full strength!"

Tayte nodded. "Arl Eamon might even be able to rally some of the Bannorn to aid us."

"You're right!" Alistair smiled. "He can call a Landsmeet to overrule Loghain's judgment and unite Ferelden's armies!"

Flemeth chuckled to herself. "I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, Arl Eamon and who knows what else?" She looked into Tayte's eyes. "Sounds like an _army_ to me."

"Can we do this, then?" Alistair asked. "Build an army?"

Tayte nodded. "We have to in order to stop the Blight."

"We need to prepare to leave, then." Alistair carefully took the box from Tayte's hands and returned it to his pack. Tayte looked around, remembering something.

"Flemeth?" Tayte nervously ventured. "What happened to my hound?"

Flemeth's face became unreadable. "I could not rescue him. He defended you long enough for me to save you, but refused to be taken."

Tayte's heart sank. Morfith was gone. Her companion of many years and the last remnant of her former life. She suddenly felt dizzy, and her vision began to spin a bit.

"Hey!" Alistair called out, grabbing Tayte by the arm. "Don't pass out now! We just got you back!"

Tayte shook the dizziness away, leaving her with a headache. She felt a warm tear slide down her cheek. "I'm fine." She lied. "Just a dizzy spell."

Alistair shook his head and chuckled. "Poor choice of words, Tayte!" Flemeth smirked at the joke.

Tayte faked a smile to put Alistair at peace and he went back to packing his gear. Flemeth looked back at the hut. "There is one last thing I might give you, wardens…"

Tayte wiped her tear away and turned around to see Morrigan approaching. She looked smug, as if she knew what was happening.

"The stew is bubbling, mother." Morrigan began. She stood next to her mother and eyed Alistair. "Are we to have… _guests_ for the eve? Or will they be sleeping by the fire again?"

Flemeth smiled deviously as Alistair shouldered his pack and marched over to the group. "The Grey Wardens are leaving, girl." Flemeth chuckled. "And you will be going with them."

Morrigan seemed not to hear the second sentence and gave a fake frown. "Such a shame—" Realizing something wasn't right, Morrigan snapped her head to look at her mother. "What?"

Flemeth laughed a bone-chilling cackle. "You heard me, girl! Last a checked, you had ears!" To illustrate this point, Flemeth yanked at one of Morrigan's ears, causing the woman's cheeks to burn as the wardens tried not to laugh.

"But, mother! I—I'm not ready!"

Flemeth took a more serious tone, looking Morrigan in the eyes. "Get ready, girl. Alone, these two Grey Wardens must untie an entire country against the Blight."

Morrigan opened her mouth, about to plead with her mother. After a few moments, she closed her mouth and thought of what to do. A few moments later, she reluctantly replied. "All—all right. I… should pack my things."

Morrigan walked back to the hut, slamming the door behind her. Alistair shrugged at Tayte. "I suppose we can't afford to refuse help."

Tayte nodded, unsure whether to bring up his earlier outburst. Flemeth gave Tayte a knowing glance.

Before long, Morrigan had returned from the hut with a scarf and a small pack of supplies. She placed her scarf on her shoulder and her hands on her hips. "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens."

Tayte nodded. "Glad to have you on our side, Morrigan." She wasn't really sure about having an apostate ally just yet, but she wasn't going to alienate their new recruit.

Morrigan paid Tayte little heed. "I suggest we travel to the village of Lothering, just past the Hinterlands. We can resupply there, and perhaps learn of the events since the battle of Ostagar."

Alistair looked at Tayte. "Sounds good."

"Right." Tayte looked at Morrigan. "How quickly can we reach Lothering?"

"A few days at most." Morrigan offered. "And I can help us avoid the dangers of the wilds and the Hinterlands, so we will be relatively safe until we reach Lothering."

"Can you cook?" Alistair asked suddenly.

Morrigan took a surprised and cautious expression. "Yes. I… can cook."

Alistair smirked and shrugged at Morrigan's scornful glance and Tayte's confused stare. "I'm just saying my cooking will kill us." Tayte nearly shook her head. Of the three of them, only the apostate knew how to cook.

Seeing that no more questions were to be answered at this point, Morrigan turned to her mother. "Goodbye, mother. Don't let the stew burn down the hut."

"Puh." Flemeth mocked. "'Tis far more likely you'll find this entire area—including my hut—tainted by the Blight."

Morrigan sighed. "I… All I meant was…"

Flemeth smirked. "I know. Try to have fun, dear."

Morrigan shook her head and turned away without another glance. She pointed out a trail and bid the wardens follow. Tayte took one final look at the hut in the wilds before following Morrigan and Alistair down the unfamiliar path.

* * *

AN: Long break, sorry about that. I'll try to figure out a regular pace, but the next month is hectic in Dragon Age and real-life activities. Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter Nine: Leadership

Tayte dropped her pack of supplies to the ground and exhaled sharply. Alistair raised an eyebrow at the motion. Morrigan sighed and turned around, placing her hands on her hips. Tayte pointed at the moon that had risen while they travelled. "It's break time."

Morrigan scowled. "'Tis only a few more hours of travel before we reach Lothering." She gestured toward the darkness of the forest around them. "We'll not be safe here tonight, even if the darkspawn are distracted."

Alistair frowned. "But wouldn't it be strange to be arriving in Lothering at dawn? It would be rather obvious we're on the run from something."

Morrigan lowered her brow and glared at the two Wardens. After a frustrating moment, she waved her hand in dismissal. "Fine. But I'm not taking watch." Morrigan stalked off quickly, disappearing into the woods.

Alistair shook his head. "So… are we guarding the witch queen or is she sleeping somewhere else?" Tayte shrugged. Alistair dropped his pack to the ground and began unpacking his bedroll.

Tayte took out her own bedroll, but left it furled. "I'll take first watch." Tayte checked her belt for her dagger before she began gathering some twigs for a fire.

"We won't be lighting a fire." Morrigan scolded, emerging from the forest. "There are too many beasts awake tonight. Many of them appear to be tainted by the darkspawn."

Alistair looked up at Morrigan. "How is that possible? Has the horde already come this far?"

Tayte dropped the sticks she was collecting and sat next to her bedroll. "They may have been tainted before trying to flee, and only now have changed."

Morrigan nodded. "Either way, we only have a few hours to spare." She leaned on a tree trunk and slipped down to the ground, looking out into the woods.

"I thought you were going to leave the watch to us?" Alistair ventured, a smirk creeping into his face.

"Just get your sleep so we can be on our way." Morrigan rebuked, shifting to face away from Alistair. He tapped his head and smirked at Tayte, who shrugged in return. Alistair took one last look at Morrigan before laying down on his bedroll.

Tayte unfurled her bedroll and lay down, staring up into the night. The moon was barely visible now; having moved out of the small clearing into dense tree cover. Tayte tried to sleep, but it came slowly. She could hear Morrigan whispering something to herself as she finally began to drift off, but couldn't make out any words. At last, Tayte fell asleep as the moon disappeared completely behind the dark trees.

* * *

_Arl Howe smiled as he fingered a familiar implement behind his back. "I'm sure my forces will be arriving soon, my lord."_

_Bryce turned away from the fireplace, placing his hands behind his back. "I must say, they have taken their time arriving. My son suggested that they must have been walking backwards."_

_Howe nodded and chuckled. "Yes, it is rather strange that they were held up so badly. I thought the dike overturning would have been a minor setback…"_

_Bryce nodded knowingly as his eyes drifted toward a portrait on the wall. Howe followed the gaze to see that face of King Maric, who had died at sea only a few years ago._

_"I wonder what he would have done." Bryce mused. "He was a gifted leader, if not the most skilled tactician. I wonder what he would have done to stop the Blight?"_

_Howe put a hand on the shoulder of his old friend. "Not all heroes are saints, Bryce. Sometimes doing what is best requires a more… detestable sort of sacrifice."_

_Bryce frowned. "You mean to speak of those rumors? Of Maric killing the banns who murdered his mother?" He turned to face Howe, shrugging aside his hand. "That was not a crime. That was justice."_

_Howe feigned surprise at the bloodthirsty words. "Really? I didn't think you saw the world that way, Bryce."_

_"You are partially right." Bryce continued, walking over to the fireplace once more. "Not all heroes are saints. But what if Maric had not killed those men? Would Ferelden stand united as it is today?"_

_Howe shook his head. "Perhaps not." He searched the room for another topic to pursue, eager to be rid of the current argument. He then remembered Bryce's young daughter, Tayte. He barely hid a smile of envy. What did it matter if the girl had a scar? If he couldn't convince Tomas to marry her, he would call Nathaniel back from the Free Marches. To have such a girl, the daughter of a Teryn no less, as daughter-in-law would cement his family's prestige._

_Bryce was unaware of Howe's desire to change the topic, and took a seat near the fireplace. "Men like Maric are revered as heroes in public, but remember that not all such heroes were as… gentle as he was."_

_Howe stepped closer, hovering over Bryce's seat. "I've been meaning to speak to you about your daughter." Howe hoped his plan would work; otherwise he would be forced to do the unspeakable…_

_"What of her? Did we not already discuss her at length earlier?" Bryce replied, undisturbed._

_Howe almost sighed. They had discussed her earlier, after the Grey Warden left for his quarters. He should have raised the subject then. "My lord, I meant I wished to discuss the possibility of her marriage to Tomas."_

_Bryce chuckled. "Tomas is a great deal younger than her, and she has previously mentioned her decision not to marry him." Bryce looked up at Howe. "And as for Nathaniel…"_

_A soldier wearing the bear crest of Amaranthine barged in the hall entrance, a squad of soldiers behind him. "Beg pardon my lords, but we have arrived."_

_Bryce smiled at the man, oblivious to Howe's squirming. "Welcome, we've been staying up all night waiting for you!" He turned back to Howe. "This is the first time in years I sent my wife to bed without me…"_

_Howe placed a hand on Bryce's shoulder, nervous. His heart beat quickly, having reached the moment of truth. Would the Couslands join the Howes or be destroyed? "Sire, as you were saying… about Nathaniel…"_

_Bryce shrugged. "Tayte has never met him, since he left to squire in the Free Marches when she came of age to marry." He gave a weak smile. "I'd have to say it's very unlikely."_

_Howe exhaled sharply, fingering his weapon in his free hand. "It's… I'm sorry to hear that, old friend."_

_Bryce looked into the fire. "I wish it were otherwise, Rendon. I've heard that Nathaniel has become a fine young man."_

_Howe clenched his teeth and looked at his friend of several decades. He imagined he felt pity, but remembered what he had to do. There could be no more negotiation, no more mercy. All who stood in his way had to pay with their lives._

_"I'm sorry, old friend." Howe said quietly, the false remorse quenched. His heart had returned to the ice it was forged from. He had mistakenly thought that Bryce could change him. Now he saw that he never meant to change. This is who he was._

_Bryce looked up, slightly confused. "Yes, it is unfortunate." His eyes widened at the knife raised over him._

_Without any pity or remorse, Howe brought the knife down and carved open Bryce's chest._

_

* * *

_

"Father!" Tayte screamed. She jumped out of her bedroll, startling both Alistair and Morrigan, who had fallen asleep at her watch.

Morrigan recovered first, standing and scowling at Tayte. "Are you mad? You'll set half the forest upon us!"

Tayte couldn't control her breathing, coughing in between irregular breaths until Alistair knelt beside her and held her shoulder. "Was it the Archdemon?"

Tayte shook her head, still coughing. "I… saw my father betrayed by Arl Howe." She looked up at Alistair. "I was asleep when that happened! How…"

Morrigan crossed her arms. "The demons of the fade are likely taking your fears and creating images to horrify you. The veil must be thin here." Morrigan snorted. "I blame the darkspawn."

Tayte shook her head. "But it didn't feel like a dream… I could sense their thoughts…"

Morrigan sighed. "There is very little chance it was more than a nightmare. Even mages are not plagued by visions unless extreme conditions are met."

Tayte took a deep breath, trying to regulate her breathing. "I want to leave. Now."

Alistair and Morrigan silently agreed. The group packed quickly, marching off within minutes. Morrigan again took the lead, with Alistair taking the rear. Tayte rubbed her head as she tried to forget the nightmare.

Just before leaving the clearing, Morrigan stopped and looked Tayte in the eye. "I told you we would not be safe. It would be wise to heed my warnings in the future."

Without waiting for a reply, Morrigan spun around and led the way out of the forest and into the hills above Lothering. Tayte felt relieved to leave the forest behind. By the time the group had reached Lothering, it was almost midday.

* * *

Tayte slouched into a seat in a corner of the crowded tavern. Alistair sat across from her, pulling something out of his pack. Morrigan clenched her teeth before taking a seat next to Alistair, unable to find anywhere else. Alistair wasn't paying attention to the witch, instead putting forward the sealed box of treaties.

"We need to figure out which promises to gain first." Alistair explained. "There's a lot of ground to cover, and we don't have time on our side." He pulled out each of the three major treaties one by one and laid them out on the table. Morrigan selected one and grabbed it, causing Alistair to flinch when he noticed she sat next to him.

"This is not a treaty worth pursuing." She unfurled the scroll and scoffed at the writing before handing it to Tayte. Tayte skimmed the promises made and noticed that the treaty was signed by the First Enchanter of the Circle of Magi from a century ago.

Tayte placed the scroll on the table and looked up at Morrigan. "Care to explain why it's worthless?" She kept a level voice, beginning to remember her father's leadership training: before one can direct others, they must understand them. Ironic that her recruitment into the lowest rank of the Grey Wardens had somehow put her in charge.

Morrigan considered Tayte's question. Her frown only deepened after a few moments. "The mages of the tower are like caged birds, singing for the Chantry and unable to exercise their true powers." She clenched her fist at the thought. "They would be easy targets for the darkspawn, and would only drag us down to service the Chantry they blindly follow."

"Hey!" Alistair interrupted. "Don't talk that way about the Chantry. It has a few… leadership issues, but it isn't a tyranny!"

Morrigan twisted in her seat to sneer at Alistair. "Ah, so the former Templar seeks to defend his beloved Chantry. How very original."

Alistair stood up, angered. "I'm not defending it!" He immediately saw the error of his words and retracted. "I mean, I'm not saying it's perfect. But you have no right to saw those things!"

Morrigan smirked. "I have _every_ right, my dear Alistair. Or did the Templars never let you see the benefits of those you hunted?"

"Enough, both of you." Tayte spoke levelly. "We can discuss our… religious differences later." She picked up the mage treaty and furled it. "We will save this one for later." She tossed it back to Alistair, who reluctantly sat back down and placed the scroll back in the box.

Tayte quickly began to mentally summarize what she had learned as she slowly unfurled and pretended to read another one of the treaties. Morrigan had a deep-seated hatred of the Chantry, likely instilled by her apostate mother. She was also fond of freedom from rules and obligations. Alistair, on the other hand felt extreme loyalty to certain causes. His experience with the Chantry, while not entirely positive, had molded—or indoctrinated—him to support his former ties to the Templar order. Tayte knew it was not the most useful information, but it was enough to keep from offending either of her companions.

"Well, what does it say?" Morrigan asked impatiently.

Tayte jolted, having forgotten what she was doing. She quickly skimmed the scroll until she saw the dwarven images near the bottom. "Dwarves of Orzammar." She replied. "Out in the Frostbacks."

Alistair shook his head. "That's pretty far away."

Morrigan nodded. "Too far for now, put that one away."

Tayte rolled her eyes at the quick decision—and agreement—of her allies. She placed the scroll in the box and opened the last. A quick perusal told Tayte that this treaty was for the Dalish elves. "This one's for the Dalish." Tayte sighed. "These aren't getting any easier."

Morrigan wilted. "Is there an alliance that doesn't require an extreme test of patience?"

Tayte shrugged. "It's the best we've got. There are a few suggestions of where we can find the Dalish…"

Alistair looked around the tavern to make sure no one was looking before leaning in. "We can go to Redcliffe."

Tayte placed the scroll down. "You did mention that before, didn't you?" She clasped her hands together. "And are we certain that Arl Eamon will support us?"

Alistair nodded. "He's not going to let Loghain's misjudgments destroy Ferelden, and he might be able to convince the Landsmeet to turn on Loghain for his treachery." Alistair hesitated a moment, and Tayte wondered what sort of emotion passed over his face for a mere instant. "And I know him." He looked at Tayte. "He'll help us."

Tayte tapped the scroll for the elven alliance. "Then we'll find the elves after we recruit Eamon's army."

Tayte heard rough laugher at her decision. She turned her head to see a group of armed men, some with drinks in their hands, laughing loudly. They all wore armor with a green drake etched into the front, the crest of Gwaren.

The leader of the group, who wore a chain shirt and surcoat over his armor and carried a larger sword, chuckled. "Look what we have here, men!" He raised his arms, tankard in one and dagger in the other. "I think we've just been blessed."

Alistair shifted in his chair, ready to jump to his feet at the first sign of conflict. "Uh oh." He looked at Tayte. "Loghain's men. This could be trouble."

One of the soldiers took a long pull from his mug before he spoke. "Didn't we ask for a woman of this very description?" He pointed at Tayte. "And everyone said they hadn't seen her!"

The commander sneered. "It seems we've been lied to."

Tayte felt out her dagger, wishing she had a real weapon to fend off the soldiers with if it came to battle. The soldiers seemed spoiling for a fight, and only seemed to be more eager when a red-haired woman wearing chantry robes nudged her way over.

"Please, gentlemen!" She pleaded. "These are surely no more than mere refugees, come to Lothering to escape the darkspawn horde."

The commander growled at the interruption. "They're more than that!" He grabbed the woman by the sleeve, staring her in the eye. "You'll stay out of our way, _sister_." He slid his dagger across his throat in demonstration. "Or you'll get the same as them."

The commander shoved the red-haired woman aside, but she remained nearby. Tayte stood up, holding her hands palm-forward to demonstrate her sheathed weapons. "I'm sorry, sers. There must be some mistake here."

The commander dropped his tankard and drew his sword swiftly. "I'll have no part in your treacherous words! We heard you planning to usurp Loghain and put Eamon on the throne of Ferelden! We'll not bow before your puppet!"

Morrigan stood. "Are you certain you wish to challenge us?" She smirked at the commander. "We are not afraid of you."

The commander scoffed. "Enough with your games, you die here!" At his word, the other soldiers tossed aside their drinks and drew their swords. Alistair jumped out of his seat and drew his sword and shield. Tayte pulled out her dagger. With a cry of anger, the soldiers leaped at their prey.

Tayte used the size of her weapon to her advantage the best she could; she was trained to fight with larger weapons. She deflected a sword strike from a soldier, swinging his sword around and stabbing at his wrist. He punched Tayte in the face, pushing her back a few steps and into a table. The refugees sitting at the table leapt away in fear. Tayte saw Morrigan alternate between small bursts of fire and ice to tear apart one of the soldiers, leaving a charred corpse with chunks of ice hanging off.

The soldier who had punched Tayte raised his sword and brought it down where she would have been standing if she hadn't ducked aside. She grabbed his arm and pulled his elbow the wrong direction quickly enough to elicit a snap and a howl of pain. Tayte cut the man's throat as he fell down in agony, where he began to bleed out as well.

Alistair was fending off the commander, who was a skilled swordsman and managed to keep Alistair's shield arm busier than his weapon arm. Alistair suddenly switched to the offensive, leading with his shield to push the commander backwards. Morrigan drained the life of a soldier she had weakened through magic, causing him to fall limp. Tayte threw her dagger at a soldier attempting to sneak up on Alistair, catching him in the back. The man screeched in pain until Tayte ran up and snapped his neck.

The red-haired chantry sister had drawn a pair of knifes and was fighting one of the soldiers, using both blades in a crossed configuration to deflect sword blows from her assailant. She dodged and weaved what she couldn't block, and managed to nick the forearms of the soldier. When he attempted to raise his sword and bring it down on the woman's head, she locked it between her knifes. She slid one knife along her opponent's blade and twisted her knives to swing the sword down and away from her. A quick strike at the soldier's hand dislodged the sword, and she clapped the man on the temples with the hilt of her knives, knocking him out.

Tayte retrieved her dagger from her dead target as this occurred, and watched in vague interest until the man fell. She remembered Alistair's plight and turned to see him bash away the commander's sword with his shield.

Alistair raised his weapon for the killing blow before a voice called out over the cries of fear from the refugees. "Wait! Don't kill him!" The red-haired chantry sister ran over to Alistair and grabbed his shoulder. "You've disarmed him, you've won."

Morrigan stepped on one of the corpses in her wake and gazed into the commander's eyes, which had just now begun to show fear. "He is defeated, it would be unwise to let him live to exact revenge."

"No… I surrender!" The commander gasped.

The red-haired woman looked at Morrigan. "He's surrendered, show him mercy."

"I should show him the same mercy he would have given me." Morrigan replied, electricity beginning to spark around her hand.

Tayte stepped forward and looked at the defeated man. "I should kill you for attacking us. We're on an important mission that can't be risked by letting men like you hound us."

The commander looked pleadingly at each member of Tayte's group and the chantry sister. "Please, I didn't know what I was getting into."

Alistair looked at Tayte. "We could have him send a message."

Tayte nodded. She knelt down in front of the man, looking him in the eye. "You are going to go straight to Denerim. You're going to send a message to Loghain."

The man nodded. "What message?"

Tayte whispered into the man's ear so that only he could hear. "Tell him that the Blight is not a myth. He must prepare Ferelden to face it, or he will be removed from power."

The man nodded again. "I'll leave at once." He stood up slowly, not taking his eyes off of Tayte until he realized his sword was still on the ground. He silently asked to have it back, pointing at the fine blade.

"No." Tayte responded. She picked up the sword and stood, testing its balance. "I will keep this, and you will find a new weapon for your trip to Denerim." The man silently nodded and ran out the door of the tavern, refugees parting for his passage.

Alistair sheathed his weapons, wincing at the blood coating his armor. He raised his hand in a placating gesture, looking around the tavern. "Everyone be calm, we aren't here to cause trouble like this."

Tayte followed Alistair's lead, sheathing her dagger and leaning her new sword by their table. The red-haired woman had been standing by the table, and gave a little jump when she noticed Tayte. She scurried off with something, but Tayte paid no heed.

Alistair continued to calm the refugees down, visiting specific groups to pacify them. He tapped a man drinking with his friends on the shoulder. "Look, just return to your drinks, we'll clean this up." He walked over to the bartender and laid a few silver coins on the table. "Sorry about the mess…"

Morrigan was bent over the corpses, looting them of valuable and useful items presumably. Tayte moved to stop her before realizing the sorry state of their equipment. She didn't like the stares Morrigan was receiving, but decided that it would be necessary.

Once Alistair and Morrigan had finished with their tasks, the group began to prepare the bodies for burial. Morrigan scoffed at the idea, but was pacified when told that someone else would dig the graves and lay the corpses within. When the last of the bodies was being carried off by helpful refugees, the red-haired woman approached Tayte.

"I'm sorry for interfering earlier." She began, wringing her wrists. "I just couldn't stand by and let them attack you."

Tayte shrugged. "At least you tried, I guess."

The woman nodded as she frowned. "I suppose." She looked at Alistair and back to Tayte. "You are Grey Wardens, yes?"

Tayte nodded slowly. "We are. How do you know that?"

"Those men you fought were Loghain's bounty hunters, sent to find the last of the Grey Wardens." She paused. "He claims that your order betrayed King Cailan at Ostagar."

Alistair growled. "We did no such thing. If anyone killed Cailan, it was Loghain."

The woman shrugged. "The men who were after you gave vivid descriptions of both of you when they asked the refugees. That's how I was able to recognize you."

"Aside from the soldiers trying to kill us, I assume." Alistair added.

Tayte looked the woman over. "What's your name?"

"Oh!" The woman extended at hand. "I'm Leliana, I'm sorry for not introducing myself earlier."

Tayte slowly extended her own hand to greet Leliana. "My name is Tayte."

Leliana looked up at Alistair. "Alistair." He pointed at Morrigan, scowling a few paces away. "And this is our resident bundle of joy, Morrigan."

Leliana smiled at Morrigan, who scowled even more. Leliana looked back at Tayte. "It's good that we all know each other's names know, since we're going to be travelling together."

Alistair sputtered. "Wait, what?"

Tayte raised an eyebrow. "Uh, when was that decided?"

Leliana looked Tayte in her eyes, completely serious. "A had a vision from the Maker himself telling me to go with you."

Tayte stepped back. "Okay…"

"More crazy?" Alistair shook his head. "I thought we were all full up."

Leliana began to worry. "Wait, it's true! He spoke to me! I need to help you!"

Morrigan walked over to Tayte and whispered into her ear. "I think this one was dropped on her head as a child."

Leliana grabbed Tayte by the shoulders, clutching tight as if Tayte was going to slip away. "You need help, don't you? I can fight, I won't be a burden!"

Tayte gently lifted Leliana's hands off her shoulders and took a step back. "Leliana, I don't think we have room for you…"

Leliana frowned. "I… see…"

"I think you should go back to your cloister, Leliana." Tayte sighed, worried for the girl's sanity.

Leliana nodded silently and turned away. "I'm sorry for bothering you." She sulked as she left the inn. Alistair tapped his head and Morrigan nodded.

The group went back to their table, sitting down in their old seats. Tayte began to attach the sheath for her new sword to her belt as Alistair placed the battle-scattered treaties back to their box. He slowed down as he placed the last scroll in the box, and began to look left and right for something.

"What's wrong?" Tayte asked.

Alistair checked under the table and came back up with a frown. "Where is the Dalish elf treaty?"

Tayte tapped her hand where the scroll was before the battle as she thought of what could have happened to it. Should it have been knocked around like the box was, it would still be nearby. As Tayte tried to remember, she recalled Leliana snatching something and scampering off before she introduced herself.

Alistair and Morrigan shared looks of confusion as Tayte sighed deeply. Morrigan raised an eyebrow, hoping for some explanation. Tayte shook her head and tried to hold in her frustration.

"I think Leliana has made off with our treaty."

* * *

_A.N. Hopefully, updates will begin to rise so that I can finish before DA2 releases, but no promises. ;p_


	11. Chapter Ten: Allies

Morrigan scowled as she followed the Grey Wardens out of the tavern. Had she been with the treaties rather than picking up burnt corpses, no one could have stolen such an important document. She was not impressed with Tayte's leadership abilities thus far, and could only imagine what would happen should Tayte continue to make mistakes.

It only took a few minutes of running to find the red-haired sister, who had run off to what seemed to be a public ridicule of an imprisoned man. Morrigan barely strained herself to notice the hornless qunari, adorned with rags and chained to a cage. Morrigan suddenly felt the urge to kill the fools who had imprisoned the man. For a country that resented incarceration, the Fereldans were very hypocritical with their punishment of outsiders.

Tayte raised a hand to stop, and Alistair quickly obeyed. Morrigan took a few more steps to get closer to the crowd, attempting to see what was being done to the qunari. Tayte seemed to ignore him as she shoved her way over to Leliana. Morrigan sighed, watching Tayte begin to scold Leliana for the theft. Morrigan shook her head and took stock of the situation the qunari was in.

From Morrigan's vantage point in the crowd, she could confirm that the spectacle was meant to degrade the man to some sort of freak. The chains kept the qunari in place, while he was already trapped in a narrow cage. His rags barely covered his body, and his face was discolored from bruises and malnourishment. The apparent architect of the event wore the robes of a revered mother of the Chantry. Her old face was lined with scorn and derision as she spouted lies about the qunari people that even Morrigan, secluded as she had been, could see through. Yet through it all, the qunari kept his determined gaze upon the audience, as if he could force them to disperse by his will alone.

Morrigan looked at Alistair to see that he had inched closer to the crowd, joining them in observing the spectacle of a foreigner criminal. His weak mind must have been corrupted by the priest's words, Morrigan thought. She sighed and turned to Tayte, who seemed to be having a difficult time getting back the document from the foolish sister.

Morrigan stood very still for several minutes, watching the crowd jeer and shout at the qunari as he stood perfectly still. She listened to the revered mother's words, allowing her anger to grow. Suddenly, the qunari seemed to notice Morrigan. He fastened his eyes on her, and she knew what she had to do. She never expected or desired assistance from any other being, but she knew she would overlook that should she ever be held against her will, unable to help herself survive the way she should. No being should be forced to live at the mercy of others. Morrigan would rather die than let it come to that.

Morrigan shoved Alistair aside and pushed her way through the crowd. Some of the villagers gasped when they saw her, no doubt despising her for her apparent chasind appearance. She ignored them, continuing to push the insolent peasants out of her way. She noted the approach of several guards and templars, and decided to act quickly. She ran past the last few villagers as she created a searing fireball in her hand. With a shout, she launched the projectile at the qunari.

The qunari didn't blink as the superheated missile flew his way. Morrigan could hear the typical shrieks of weak women and the gasps of the men. She heard the guards draw their swords and templars prepare their anti-magic powers. She could see Alistair panicking out of the corner of her eye, drawing his sword and looking right and left to determine who was a foe. She heard her name called, but disregarded it. She leaped after her fireball, emptying her mind. She let the thoughts of her human form give way to memories of howling at the moon and chasing prey in the wilds.

The fireball hit the cage, melting away the bars and disconnecting the chains. The qunari noticed that the remaining chains could be used as weapons and picked them up, aware that the templars were after him as well. The chantry priest shrieked and ran as Morrigan, in the form of a wolf, charged into the inevitable conflict with the templars.

* * *

Tayte groaned and pulled out her new sword, running to protect Morrigan. It was bad enough that Leliana had stolen the Dalish treaty and seemed unwilling to return it, but now Morrigan had brought the might of the templars upon the group. Tayte glanced at Alistair, expecting him to sit the fight out to keep his loyalties and conscience clear. True to form, Alistair seemed more interested in getting the villagers out of the fray.

Tayte took a deep breath and focused on the templars. She charged, running a guard through as he tried to flank Morrigan. She swung her sword in a wide arc to discourage retaliation, giving Morrigan some room. The qunari that Morrigan freed used this distraction to swing his chains and catch a man by the throat, breaking his neck by the sheer force behind the blow. The qunari broke bones and dented armor with his chains, frightening the guards into retreat.

When the templars wouldn't withdraw, the qunari gave ground to avoid a counterattack. Morrigan leaped onto one, bringing him down where she could tear open his throat. Tayte pulled out her dagger and buried it in the back of a templar before impaling him on her sword. She retrieved her weapons and took a defensive stance as the remaining templars turned toward her.

By this time, the templars surely saw that their task was futile. But as Tayte expected they carried on the fight, likely thinking they were martyrs to the cause. Morrigan leaped from templar to templar, tearing apart shoulders and throats as she went. The qunari would concuss the templars with a massive punch before strangling them with his chains. Tayte attempted to put up a fair fight against a templar, but he ended up too skilled for Tayte to risk an even fight. With a sudden thrown knife to the gut, Tayte was able to disarm and kill the man.

Tayte looked over the carnage as she regained her breath and wiped the blood off her face. She counted at least a dozen templars, along with a few guards, that had been killed. The qunari seemed indifferent to his rescue, and Morrigan's face was unreadable even after she shifted back to human form.

"What were you thinking, Morrigan?" Tayte scolded.

Morrigan crossed her arms, defiant. "No being deserves to be at the mercy of others."

Tayte sighed and turned to the qunari. "What's your name?"

The qunari stood still for a moment, as if considering something. "Sten." He replied. "Sten of the Beresaad."

Tayte nodded. "I'm Tayte, of the Grey Wardens." She extended her bloody hand, but Sten didn't seem to understand the gesture and Tayte relented. "Where will you go now?"

"I must find my atonement." Sten stared into Tayte's eyes. "But I came to Ferelden to answer a question."

"What question?"

"'What is the Blight?' That is what brought me to this land."

Tayte sheathed her sword and looked around to make sure that no more guards had arrived. "I'm sure you can find that out if you wait here before you go."

Morrigan stepped forward, looking Tayte in the eye. "Why don't we take him with us? You saw his strength. He could be of help to us and still learn the answer to his question."

Sten nodded. "I have heard legends of the Grey Wardens." He looked at Tayte. "Though no one informed me that they were female."

Tayte shook her head and chuckled. "Grey Wardens can be male too." She heard someone approaching and turned to see Alistair. She turned from his angry face to smirk at the qunari. "He's a warden too." She pointed over her shoulder to the scowling former templar.

"Can someone fill me in, please?" Alistair groaned. "If I saw correctly, you just murdered a squad of templars and some of the local guards. Now, unless they were possessed by demons—which seems very unlikely—I think it's time for our postponed discussion."

Tayte put a hand on Alistair's shoulder and whispered into his ear. "I don't agree with how she did it, but Morrigan just gained us a new ally."

Alistair sighed. "Fine. But this is the only time I'll accept mindless killing." He looked up at Sten. "So, you're with us now."

Sten gazed at Alistair. "Apparently."

"I suppose we might as well take their weapons and armor." Tayte said to Sten. "You'll need equipment."

Sten nodded and began to walk among the dead. Morrigan joined him, freeing him of his chains and searching alongside him in the carnage.

Alistair tapped Tayte on the shoulder as she watched. He pointed at an approaching group. "Looks like we have some old friends joining us."

Tayte looked to see Leliana and the revered mother approaching, accompanied by a templar that seemed unfazed by his companions' demise. Leliana was holding the Dalish scroll for Tayte to see. She moved to join the group, ignoring the stern face of the templar and the angry face of the revered mother.

"Can I assume you'll give that back to me now?" Tayte began, pointing at the scroll in Leliana's hands. The revered mother stepped in front of Leliana, incensed.

"How dare you address her that way, after what you've done? Surely you can't form such words with the wicked deeds weighing on your soul!"

The templar latched onto the revered mother, pulling her aside slowly. "This isn't worth getting hysterical over. This was surely a misunderstanding."

"_You_ misunderstand, Ser Bryant!" The old priest shouted. "This woman has sided with an apostate and a heathen against the true faith! She deserves whatever hellish existence waits for her beyond the Fade!"

The templar sighed and let go of the indignant priest, who began to bless herself with a muttered prayer. Leliana stepped forward with the treaty, handing it over to Tayte. "I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble." Tayte took the scroll and made sure it was the correct document before handing it to Alistair to put away. "But I want to help you."

Alistair shrugged at Tayte as he slid his backpack to the ground. "We could use the help. We _did_ recruit a qunari, after all."

Tayte sighed. "Alistair, she's one Archdemon short of a Blight."

Alistair smirked at the poor joke. "She seems more like a 'ooh, pretty colors!' than a 'I'm princess stabbity! Kill, kill!'"

Tayte and Leliana shook their heads in unison at Alistair as he placed the scroll in his pack. Tayte looked Leliana in the eyes. She seemed honest enough, and had eventually made amends for her theft of the treaty. Tayte took a deep breath as she decided. "All right, Leliana. You can come."

Leliana smiled. "Thank you. You won't regret this."

The revered mother opened her eyes and stopped muttering her prayers to spit at Tayte. "You corrupt the minds of others, demon! Leave at once with your prize, before the Maker smites you and reclaims his daughter!"

Ser Bryant sighed and nodded at Tayte. "You really should go soon. I wish you luck Warden, but you are causing too much trouble here where hope is already dim."

Tayte dismissed Bryant's knowledge as Leliana's doing and nodded back. "We will leave just as soon as…" Tayte looked over to Sten and Morrigan, who were still salvaging weapons and armor. "…We'll be leaving soon."

Bryant nodded; apparently not ready to question Tayte over her involvement in the massacre. The old priest, however, was ready to continue judgment. "Ser Bryant, you must repent immediately for condoning the actions of this woman!"

Tayte turned and walked away before the revered mother could continue. Alistair and Leliana fell into step behind her naturally, which was still provoked an odd feeling in Tayte. Sten and Morrigan, laden with equipment to sort through once the group had safely left Lothering, fell in behind the rest. By nightfall, Tayte had brought the group several miles away from Lothering to a small forest clearing.

* * *

Alistair and Leliana began to set up the tents and a small fire. Sten roamed the woods for firewood, occasionally chopping down a branch or two from the trees. Morrigan left to hunt, likely in the form of a wolf. Tayte watched the fire, using a whetstone that Morrigan had found to sharpen her new sword. She also selected a few knives that were balanced enough to toss, repurposing a pouch to hold them in easy reach over her shoulder. She found a short sword that was light enough to be held in her off-hand, and practiced her old routines for two-weapon fighting. Once Leliana was done helping Alistair with the tents, she pulled out an armored leather jacket from her pack along with some travelling clothes, setting off to redress. Alistair pulled up a stump and took out the token he held before the battle of Ostagar, silently rubbing its surface. Leliana and Sten came back with the firewood, and Sten selected armor and a two-handed sword from the equipment pile. Morrigan returned with some small game that she cooked into a stew for the party before building a separate fire in the corner.

Once everything seemed done for the night, Tayte told Alistair she was going to sleep first and that he would set the watch cycle for the night. Tayte removed her leather armor and crawled into her bedroll, closing her eyes for much-needed sleep.

* * *

It wasn't long before Tayte heard the familiar hum of the dragon gods. She tried to shut it out, but it kept worming its way into her mind.

She saw Roland, dulling a sword for sparring with new recruits. Her mother was knitting with Oriana as Oren played with a set of wooden figurines. She saw herself, scarless and standing by her father in a wedding gown, turning to look down the aisle of the chapel.

"This could all be yours."

Tayte opened her eyes, but instead of waking she saw the Archdemon standing over her.

"You don't need to be unhappy. This world had done such terrible things to you."

Tayte frowned. "How so?"

The Archdemon raised a bony eyebrow. "You've lost your entire family to an old friend. Your life of privilege and happiness disappeared with a single word from a usurper. Those that rescued you expect you to sacrifice yourself for a cause you don't comprehend. Your closest ally can't accept that you suffer as much as he does."

Tayte shook her head. "You're wrong. I don't suffer anymore."

The Archdemon smirked. "Has the suffering ended?" It drew closer, staring Tayte in the eyes. "Or are you too afraid to admit that you've lost everything? And that the architect of your fall is mourned by your would-be friend?"

"Duncan did not kill my father!" Tayte shouted. She failed to repress a shiver, memories of her family's death surging back to the surface.

"Ah, I can see what your fear now." The Archdemon grinned. "You try to forget because you might be too afraid to love again. No one could replace the family you remember being murdered." It hummed at Tayte. "Do not be afraid of remembering what your family had to suffer. What _you_ had to suffer. And never forget who did this to you."

"Howe." Tayte growled. "If I ever meet him again, he will die slowly and painfully, like my father had to."

"Yes, yes…" The Archdemon cooed. "Make him suffer. Make everyone fell your pain. Why should they live happily when you've been ruined?"

Tayte clenched her fists. "How come everyone else gets to live with their parents, siblings, and children but I can't? What have I done to deserve my family's death?"

The Archdemon grinned widely. "They don't deserve that happiness, Tayte. But you can bring balance. You can force the world to accept your pain by inflicting the very same to them!"

Tayte clenched her teeth and growled. "I won't let them mock me for my pain."

"Yes, you deserve more."


	12. Chapter Eleven: On the Road

"My lord?"

Loghain sighed. He looked out a window from the palace into the empty streets of the district. He tried to calm himself with a sip from his wine goblet, but knew he would have to face whatever had happened. "Make it quick, Howe."

Teryn Rendon Howe bowed and took a few steps forward. "There are those that demand that you abdicate the throne to allow your daughter Anora take her place as queen. Some of the Bannorn is… not pleased that you seized the regency."

Loghain scowled. "They don't need to be pleased."

"Even so," Howe continued. "It may be a good idea to attend the Landsmeet that Bann Teagan has called." Loghain was still unimpressed. "They are… said to be gathering their forces, my liege." Loghain turned to face Howe, anger lining his features. "It appears there will be civil war after all, despite the darkspawn."

Loghain noticed that the darkspawn were an afterthought to Howe. But he knew that darkspawn were a threat, Blight or no. "They will rally to my banner, or the Orlesians will make them forget their petty troubles." Loghain shivered at the thought of Orlais retaking Ferelden, no doubt claiming the darkspawn incursion a Blight as an excuse to the other nations. He would not let Ferelden be occupied again.

Howe shuffled from one foot to the other. "My lord, we also have heard reports that some of the Grey Wardens survived the battle of Ostagar. I've arranged for a solution…"

Loghain looked out the window, wondering who could have survived the battle of Ostagar. When he withdrew, he expected Cailan to perish, taking his dreams of Orlesian glory with him. The Grey Wardens may have been an Orlesian threat, though Loghain wondered if he should have been so certain of treachery. Since returning to Denerim, Loghain had researched the fabled warriors and learned of their enforced neutrality. But what if they Grey Wardens hid behind their neutrality to pave the way for the Chevaliers?

"The Antivan Crows send their regards."

Loghain shook his head and turned around. He scowled at the Antivan elf that stood before him, carrying the traditional weapons of the order of assassins he belonged to. "An assassin?" Loghain scoffed.

"Against Grey Wardens we need the very best…" Howe pleaded.

"And the most expensive." The elf chuckled.

Loghain turned and placed his goblet on a table, sighing. "Just get it done."

"Company." Alistair whispered. Tayte saw the travelers ahead; two dwarves trying to repair a cart and an ox tied to a tree. She raised her arm to tell the group to stop as she walked forward to address the dwarves.

One of the dwarves, sporting a long beard and fancy clothing, saw Tayte approach and smiled. "Hello, there!" He stood from his work and walked over to greet Tayte. "The name's Bodahn Feddic, a pleasure to meet you."

Tayte waved the rest of the group over. "I'm Tayte." She said to the dwarf, who was getting the attention of his companion.

Bodahn and his companion, a smaller and clean-shaven dwarf, both walked up to Tayte. "This here is my son, Sandal." Tayte heard Leliana chuckle at the name. "Say hello, boy."

Sandal looked up into Tayte's eyes with an innocent smile. "Hello!"

Bodahn looked the group over. "You've got quite a group, if I may say so. I don't suppose you need any supplies?"

Tayte looked over her allies, noticing how scant their belongings were. "I suppose we could use some supplies…"

Bodahn smiled. "Good! Now just follow me, I'll get a few things out of the cart." He tapped Sandal on the shoulder. "Try to get the axle back in place, will you boy?"

The party followed Bodahn to the back of the cart, where he pulled out crates of rations and pieces of equipment. Leliana produced a sizable bag of coins from her pack and made sure everyone saw that she could pay.

"A little much for a cloistered sister." Alistair noted.

Leliana smirked. "I wasn't always part of the Chantry."

Morrigan scoffed at the supplies Bodahn laid out and sat down next to a tree. Alistair and Leliana stocked up on rations. Sten found himself a set of clothing his size that wasn't torn apart. After a few more minutes, Sten picked up a battered helmet from the pile.

"This was my helmet."

Bodahn nervously scurried over and looked at the helmet. "I found that near Lake Calenhad, a few miles away."

Sten lowered his brow. "Lake Calenhad." He glared at Bodahn. "Was there any other equipment you found at the battlefield?"

Bodahn shook his head. "I didn't find any battlefield. It looked like whoever did just dumped a few pieces as they left."

Sten scowled. "How much is the price of one's own equipment these days?"

Bodahn shrugged. "Well, you can have that for free. I'm not angering a qunari. It's bad for business."

Sten nodded. "Very well."

Once Leliana had paid for the supplies, Bodahn walked over to Tayte, who was leaning on a tree and watching the road. "I take it you're heading for Redcliffe?"

Tayte nodded. "Yes. That is where this road leads, right?"

"Indeed." Bodahn paused for a moment. "You have heard of the curse of Redcliffe, haven't you?"

Tayte looked at the dwarf curiously. "No, I haven't."

Bodahn sighed. "Well, rumors say that Arl Eamon is deathly ill, but no one can reach him because of some sort of monsters that infest the castle. They even say the village is attacked nightly by these fiends."

Tayte nodded. "It looks like we need to get there faster. We can't let something like that happen."

Bodahn smirked. "I thought you were that type. Kill a few beasties for me."

Tayte gathered the party as Bodahn returned to repairing his wagon. Alistair waved at the dwarves as they left, to which Sandal waved back. Bodahn smiled at the group.

"If you ever see us on the road, just give a shout!"

* * *

Tayte noticed that Sten was pacing with his helmet. After he had finished his duties in making camp, he hadn't let go of the battered piece of equipment. Tayte stood from her stump and walked over to the restless qunari.

"Something wrong, Sten?"

Sten glared. "This helmet is no longer useful. It cannot fit my head any longer."

Tayte shrugged. "Can't you repair it?"

Sten looked at the helmet. "It's too damaged. We would need more metal."

Tayte looked at the dented helmet. "You could turn it into a shoulder guard."

Sten scoffed. "It was made to be a helmet."

"Why can't it be a shoulder guard now?" Tayte wondered.

Sten placed the helmet on his pack and turned to Tayte. "I'll use an analogy. A man is born; human or qunari, elf or dwarf. He cannot change that. He cannot change the color of his eyes or skin. He cannot change his lot in life. A farmer will always be a farmer, a noble always a noble."

Tayte shook her head. "That's not always true, Sten."

Sten scowled. "So it is possible for me to become an elf?"

Tayte sighed. "You're right about that part. No one can change their eye color or race. But they can change in status."

"How so? You have yet to give an example."

"A noble can lose everything that makes them a noble; their power, their family, their home. They were born a noble, but that can be taken away from them, leaving them with nothing. A noble-turned-commoner."

Sten raised an eyebrow. "You speak as if from experience."

Tayte sighed. "I was once a noble. My father was the second most important man in Ferelden."

"But he was found to be irresponsible? Unfit to lead?" Sten guessed.

Tayte shook her head. "No, he was killed. The man who killed him is likely in power now, in my father's place."

"What of your birthright? You were born a noble, meant to rule when your father died."

"It's not that simple in Ferelden." Tayte looked Sten in the eye. "If I wasn't saved by the Grey Wardens, I would be dead too."

Sten pondered for a few minutes. "I see. So you were once a noble, but now you are a commoner. You were once a woman, but now a Grey Warden."

Tayte lowered her head and sighed. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

Sten almost smirked. "But you became a leader after joining the wardens, as you would always be a leader."

Tayte noticed that as well. She also knew that Sten wouldn't accept her excuse that she _did_ follow orders while Duncan was alive. "Just as you will always be a qunari and that helmet will always be a piece of metal."

Sten's half-smirk vanished. He looked at the helmet. "What you say is true. There are changing and unchanging traits to each of us." He scowled. "I must meditate on this. In the meantime, prepare the fire. I wish to re-shape this helmet. Perhaps a shoulder guard will do."

Sten picked up the helmet and walked toward the small campfire slowly. Tayte smiled as she watched the giant ponder over what he had just heard.

* * *

"Morrigan, it's suppertime."

Morrigan ignored Tayte, focusing on the movements of the flame in her fire pit. Tayte sighed and set the bowl of stew down next to Morrigan and sat down. The witch pretended not to notice. Tayte clasped her hands and stared into the fire, waiting.

"What is it you want?" Morrigan finally asked, not turning from the fire.

"I wanted to ask you about something that happened a few days ago. And about something that I saw in the wilds."

Morrigan looked at Tayte curiously. "That seems like a very strange question. I'm eager to hear it."

Tayte nodded and thought back. "I remember you transforming into a wolf during your fight with the templars in Lothering."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. "Is there a question?"

"Back in the wilds, about a month ago, I remember being saved by a wolf." Morrigan continued to stare at Tayte. "Alistair told me he sensed magic involved."

Morrigan chuckled. "I still don't think you've asked a question. Furthermore, the wilds are a fickle place. That could have been Chasind magic your friend detected."

Tayte nodded. "So you're telling me our first meeting was in that ruin."

Morrigan tilted her head, unsure of what to say. "The first meeting you were aware of me…"

Tayte smiled and looked into Morrigan's eyes. "My question is this: why did you save me in the wilds?"

Morrigan seemed taken aback, unsure of what to say but unwilling to turn away. At last she decided to dismiss the question. "You must be mistaken. I never rescued you."

Tayte nodded. "Right." The two women were silent for several minutes. "What can you tell me about shapeshifting?"

Morrigan shrugged. "It's magic like any other ability I possess. It requires… a clear mind and the willingness to observe and copy what another creature does." She looked back into the fire. "It usually requires years to fully learn a new form. I have spent my entire life in the wilds, so I know the forms of many of its creatures."

Tayte watched the fire. "What about Flemeth? What forms does she know?"

Morrigan smiled. "You are right to assume that she knows how to take the forms of others." She thought for a moment. "I do not know what forms she is capable of, but I do know that she is able to take other human forms. That is… rare, to put it lightly."

Tayte took a deep breath and stood. "That's all I needed to know for now."

Morrigan nodded. She seemed to have already considered Tayte gone. Tayte sighed.

"At least consider eating the stew." Tayte shook her head and walked off. After Tayte was out of sight, Morrigan sighed and picked up the bowl of stew.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Redcliffe

Tayte struggled to see through the thick fog that began to cloud the road around early evening. Alistair had pulled out his small token and began to rub it with his thumb as the party travelled. Morrigan began to scowl deeply as the sun began to set.

"We should not be here." She glared at Tayte. ""Twould be wise to leave while we can."

Alistair looked over at Morrigan. "You afraid of a little fog, Morrigan?"

Morrigan shook her head. "This fog is unnatural."

Sten nodded. "I agree. It should not be here."

Alistair sighed and looked away. "We're near Lake Calenhad, of course there's going to be a bit of fog at night."

Tayte ignored the bickering of her companions, having noticed a shape moving in the fog. The shape moved quickly, as if running from something. Tayte stopped walking, causing Alistair to trip to avoid bumping into her. The figure emerged from the fog, revealing a man wearing farmer's clothing with fear in his eyes.

Tayte grabbed the man by the arm as he tried to run past. "What are you running from?"

The man struggled against Tayte's grip, freeing himself onto to run into Sten, who glared at the farmer. The man cowered.

"Tell us what we asked, fool." Morrigan growled.

The man turned toward Tayte and shivered. "They're coming… soon they'll have destroyed all of Redcliffe!"

Tayte took a step closer. "Who is coming?"

The farmer shook his head. "They'll kill you too, if you stay. You have to leave! Run if you value your lives!"

The man pushed Tayte aside and ran into the fog. Tayte sighed and looked at her group. "I think it's time we got a few things straight."

Leliana frowned. "Shouldn't we get to Redcliffe to see what's happened? It can't be much farther."

"Rumors say that Redcliffe is under a curse." Tayte stated. "Arl Eamon is ill, and monsters from the castle attack the village every night."

Alistair almost dropped his token. "Wait, did you say Eamon is ill?"

Morrigan shook her head. "I knew this trip was a waste of time from the start, but now it's suicidal." She looked Tayte in the eye. "We need to turn around. Going into the village is a mistake."

Sten glowered. "I cannot recommend seeking the assistance of this Arl Eamon. He is of no use to us now, and it's not wise to plunge headfirst into a den of monsters."

"Arl Eamon isn't a waste of time!" Alistair shouted. "He's the only one who might listen to us instead of Loghain. We can't just stand by and let Redcliffe fall while Eamon lies ill!"

Leliana stepped over to stand next to Alistair against Morrigan and Sten. "I agree with Alistair. We can't let those monsters continue to attack the innocent!"

Morrigan laughed. "Innocent? Give one of them a silver and an excuse and they'll kill anyone you wish them to."

"Enough!" Tayte shouted. She stepped between the two groups. "This isn't the time to debate whether or not this trip is worthwhile."

Morrigan crossed her arms and challenged Tayte. "I take it you've made a decision, then?"

Tayte nodded. "We came here to gain Arl Eamon's help. I'm not leaving until I have his assistance against the Blight."

Sten glared. "And if this Arl is dead?"

Tayte spun around and began to walk toward the village, leaving Sten's question unanswered.

* * *

The village of Redcliffe was emanating despair and hopelessness. Villagers walked quickly from place to place, heads facing the ground, and each of them—even the children—carried a weapon. Tayte tried to ignore the fear that clouded the foggy village as she marched toward the chantry building. Alistair clenched his token in his fist, frowning as he looked around. Morrigan and Sten would often get hateful glances from some of the passing villagers, but all of them quickly averted their eyes and scurried away. In the common area near the chantry, a bonfire had been built with a single log propped up, some strands of a burnt rope still clinging to the charred wood.

A man with a thick mustache saw the group approaching and signaled to a few men that had been sparring. The group formed a barrier between Tayte and the chantry. "You'd best be on your way, traveler." The man with the mustache grunted. "Redcliffe has enough troubles without your tidings." Some of the men that had assembled tossed aside their practice staves and rested their hands on their real weapons.

Tayte frowned at the mustached man. "I am a Grey Warden, and I've come to see Arl Eamon." The men began to whisper to one another, suspicious. "We've heard that he's become ill, and wish to know who is in charge of the village."

The man looked over Tayte and her companions, eyes lingering on Alistair. "I'd be the leader of the militia, or what's left of it. The name's Murdock." He motioned toward the chantry. "We've been moving the sick and wounded and children to the chantry, to be protected by the revered mother." He pointed at Morrigan. "She's not welcome here."

Morrigan scowled. "You dare to suggest where I am allowed?"

Murdock crossed his arms. "Do you know what we did to the last maleficar to dare harm us, witch?" He pointed out the bonfire. "We strapped him to the stake and burned him alive." He glowered at Morrigan. "I say all mages should be burnt at the stake. The Maker spits upon your dishonest and lustful kind, witch!"

Morrigan lowered her brow. "I could burn this village to ash and walk away unscathed, and you challenge me?"

Alistair shoved Morrigan, throwing her off-balance. "Quiet! They distrust us enough already."

Morrigan grumbled, taking a few steps back. Tayte gestured toward the practice grounds the militia had been sparring in. "I take it you're preparing for the monsters?"

Murdock grunted. "You haven't heard the half of it, girl." Tayte frowned at Murdock, who ignored his rude remark. "These aren't just monsters. They're…" Murdock and his men looked down, blessing themselves in a ritualistic manner. Murdock looked up while his men continued to bow their heads and mutter prayers. "These… things used to be members of our village. Every night the men we aren't able to burn rise up to kill us, and more come from the castle."

Sten groaned. "Magic. One can never expect a fair fight when mages use the bodies of their enemies as weapons."

Morrigan scowled in her place at the back of the group. Alistair turned and glared for a moment to ensure she didn't speak up. Tayte turned and moved toward the bonfire, inspecting it more closely. "So every day, you try to burn as many of the dead as you can?"

Murdock nodded. "Yes." He looked around at his men before stepping forward. "The dead didn't attack us last night, so we managed to destroy what was left in the village, but the revered mother says that more are coming from the castle tonight."

Alistair walked over to Tayte by the bonfire and whispered. "I want to help these people Tayte, but Arl Eamon is still in danger as long as those things are in the castle."

Tayte shook her head. "How do we reach the castle before nightfall? And if we can get inside, how do we know Eamon isn't already dead?"

Alistair slumped his shoulders and sighed. "I know a secret way into the castle from the chantry's cellar. We can use that and get there just as the monsters are leaving."

"What about the villagers?" Tayte asked.

Alistair hung his head. "I… I don't know." He looked up at Tayte. "We need to get to Eamon before it's too late, but…" He looked at Murdock and his men, ragged and weary. "We can't leave them to the monsters…"

Tayte looked at the bonfire, considering her options. After a few minutes, she decided.

"We're taking the passage. I'm sure the villagers can survive one more night."

Alistair nodded. "They're prepared for this." He shrugged, looking off into the fog. "We may be able to fix this mess once we reach the castle."

Murdock looked up with curiosity at Tayte's renewed approach. "What're you thinking, girl?"

Tayte suppressed a sigh. "We cannot stay here, but we'd like to speak to the revered mother before we leave."

Murdock frowned, as if he was expecting aid. "Very well, but you best leave before nightfall." He signaled his men to return to their sparring. "Don't try anything stupid."

Leliana and Morrigan came to Tayte with confused faces. Leliana flicked a stray hair from her brow as she examined Tayte. "If we're leaving, why do we need to speak to the revered mother?"

Tayte nodded at Alistair. "Alistair knows of a secret passage to get to the castle."

Morrigan smiled. "Leaving the villagers to fight the demons for us."

Leliana looked at Morrigan and gasped as she realized what was happening. "You're… not only going to leave the villagers behind but use them as bait?"

Morrigan chuckled. "Marvelous, if only I could manage such a plan!"

Alistair shook his head. "Your approval fills me with shame."

"As it should!" Leliana barked, causing some of the militia to glance over. "How can you condone such an evil plan?"

Tayte stepped between Alistair and Leliana. "Our objective is Arl Eamon. We can't wait here while he is trapped in a castle of monsters and unable to defend himself."

Leliana shook her head. "Fine. Just… don't try to justify this to me." Leliana rubbed her head. "Don't make me think about what we're doing."

"So much to learn." Morrigan snickered.

Tayte waved Sten over. "Come on, we're wasting daylight." She nodded at Alistair. "Lead the way."

Alistair obliged, taking the group to the chantry and pushing open the doors. Inside, he avoided contact with the revered mother and her charges, heading straight for the cellar. Tayte still couldn't help but notice the lack of hope and the desperation of the people who were unable to fight against the undead. A small girl tried to grab hold of Tayte's hand, but she shook the girl off gently and fixed a scowl on her face. No one else bothered Tayte or her party as they descended into the passage beneath the village.

* * *

"It's too quiet here." Alistair whispered, sliding a torch out of its socket in the wall. "The last time I was here, the kitchen was filled with servants and the soldiers scurried through the armory for their practice weapons." He held up the torch to Morrigan, who pretended to be blinded by the darkness in the armory the passage had led to.

Tayte rolled her eyes and nudged Morrigan, who lit the torch with a small flame from her palm. Tayte looked around the armory, noticing many of the weapons were missing. "When did you live here, Alistair?"

Alistair hesitated, his face lit by the flickering torch. "I don't believe I mentioned living here."

Tayte looked over at Alistair. "You can't tell me you knew a secret passage into a castle you never lived in."

Alistair sighed. "I did live here once, but I don't think it matters right now. We can talk after we find Eamon."

Sten lifted another torch from its socket and lit it with Alistair's, staring at the warden. "How do you propose we find this Arl?"

Alistair scratched his chin with his spare hand. "Well, there should be a hallway to the main hall from the kitchen nearby, and I think we may be able to find stairs up to the bedchambers. If Eamon's as ill as we've been told, we should look there first."

Leliana grimly pulled out her knives, sighing. "Let's just get this over with."

Tayte nodded and reached for the door of the armory. Her hand was snatched by Morrigan, who hissed a warning. Tayte raised her brow, questioning the witch.

"There's something on the other side. Demons." Morrigan whispered. She let go of Tayte and turned to the rest of the party. "Corpses animated by demons from the Fade lie beyond, more than I expected."

Alistair shook his head. "They should be attacking this village by now, that can't be right."

Morrigan held up a hand. "I have no doubt that some of the demons have left, but there are many demons still remaining." She looked around. "Castle Redcliffe has fallen."

Sten growled. "There is no honor in dying for a man on the assumption he would help us. He has nothing left to give us, and it is almost too late to escape the fate of this castle's men."

Alistair raised his torch, looking Sten in the eye. "The castle is not all that Eamon has control over. He's well respected in the Landsmeet, and can raise us an army while we fulfill the other treaties."

Sten glared at Alistair. "For your sake and the sake of Ferelden, you had better speak the truth."

Tayte drew her sword and checked her throwing knives. "We're going to have to fight our way to Eamon."

Everyone nodded. Morrigan created a light in her hand and made a gesture toward each member of the party, leaving a light floating above their heads. "Should any of us be separated or the torches are lost, this spell will give you light for as long as an hour or until you die." Morrigan looked around at the party. "If you ever confront a demon on your own, do everything in your power to escape. Do not bargain with it, and do not fight it. If you cannot escape, you are lost."

Alistair rolled his eyes. "What an uplifting speech."

Leliana shot Alistair a look. "Shut up, Alistair. This is serious."

Tayte tapped the door with her sword. "I'm starting to hear footsteps coming. When I open this door, we're going to need to move quickly through the castle. Alistair, that means you're on point."

"Right." Alistair drew his sword and walked over to the door. "I'm ready. Stay close."

Tayte nodded at Morrigan. "If they're in sight when I open the door, give them a warm welcome."

Morrigan suppressed a smirk. "Very well."

Sten drew his sword and took a combat stance, staring at the door. Leliana followed his lead by flourishing her knives and standing ready to sprint.

Tayte grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

* * *

_A.N: If it seems familiar, "Your approval fills me with shame" is a reference to Order of the Stick._

_A.N: The next chapter, maybe two, is going to be very dark. Fair warning._


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Nightmare

_A.N: This is a very "dark" chapter by my standards, involving some not-so-pleasant actions. You have been warned!_

* * *

"Father!"

Eamon spun around, looking down the hallway in search of the voice. "Connor? Connor, where are you?"

Eamon took rapid breaths, trying to calm himself but failing. He felt strange, as if the weight of age had already begun to creep over him. He couldn't run as quickly as he remembered, his vision failed him even in the lit areas of the castle. He looked at a portrait of himself on the wall, taken near the end of the Orlesian occupation when he finally returned to Ferelden as a man. The portrait was faded and torn, as if it had been several decades since the image had been painted.

"Eamon!" Cried out a woman's voice. Isolde. Eamon listened as his son and wife cried out for him, from opposite directions of the castle.

"I'm sorry, Isolde." Eamon muttered under his ragged breath. "I have to find Connor." He started down the hallway, expecting the worst. He ran out of breath several times and had to stop walking, allowing fear to claw into his heart. He finally came to the room where he had heard the screaming from. He reached out and took the handle of the door and threw it open.

Eamon gasped as he saw his son lying on the ground, a knife in his chest and Isolde standing over him. "I'm so sorry, Eamon." She whispered, barely audible. "There was nothing we could do…"

Eamon froze in shock. He looked at Connor's frightened, pale face and up at Isolde. "You treacherous whore!" He felt some of his old strength returning, and he grabbed a sword that had fallen from the hands of a guard. "I'll kill you for your insolence!"

Isolde shrieked loudly and fell back, trying to avoid Eamon's wide swings. He forced her into a corner and raised the sword above his head. "You destroyed our family! You deserve worse than death!"

Isolde shrieked once more as the blade fell, then all was silent. Eamon watched as dark blood soaked the carpets and his sleeves. He scowled as his former wife and left the sword impaled in her gut. He ran to his son, still lying lifeless on the floor. He knelt down and placed his hands on the child. "I'm so sorry it came to this, Connor." Eamon muttered. "I should have come faster…"

Before Eamon could allow himself to cry, Connor stood up. The knife continued to draw blood from the child as he glared at Eamon. He stood up and backed away, disgusted.

"Connor… what has happened to you?"

The boy's eyes began to glow and his form began to change. "The boy you knew is long gone, Arl Eamon."

Eamon gasped for breath and collapsed, everything fading away.

Eamon thought everything was over when he found himself on a cold stone floor, alone. He stood up to find himself in a hallway. He looked around, trying to figure out what had happened while he was out.

"Father!"

* * *

Tayte watched as a group of animated corpses burst into flames and fell to the floor before she charged at one of the survivors. She could hear the battle cries of Alistair and Sten as they used their torches as weapons against the undead. Tayte blocked one of the corpse's swipes with her sword as she pulled out her dagger, surprising the creature with a slash to the gut. The monster groaned and came at Tayte again, almost tearing at her face. Tayte hacked into the beast with her sword several times before it sagged to the floor.

Tayte looked around, seeing that all of the dead were once again unmoving thanks to her allies. "Alistair, which way do we go now?"

Alistair placed his torch on a bracket, relying on Morrigan's magic light as he drew his shield. "The kitchen is down this hallway."

Tayte nodded and led the group to the kitchen, where they met a grisly scene. Both rotted corpses and the bodies of the kitchen staff were strewn across the room. Leliana gasped at the sight, causing Morrigan to glare. Tayte gulped and turned to Alistair. "Where to now?"

Alistair carefully stepped around one of the corpses and pointed toward a stairwell. "We should be able to get upstairs and close to the Arl's room from here."

Sten stared at the corpses. "These are fresh kills, yet there are no demons present."

Morrigan pondered for a moment before casting a spell. She nodded and turned to Sten. "The demons were dispersed, likely by whatever brought them here."

Tayte looked at the carnage, holding her disgust in. "Why would it do that?"

Morrigan shrugged. "Perhaps it wants the pleasure of killing us itself."

Leliana shivered. "I wonder if the demons in the village were dispersed as well."

Morrigan shook her head. "I doubt it."

"Come on." Tayte pointed at the stairwell. "We need to find out what's happening here before the demons return."

Alistair nodded and began to ascend the stairs. Tayte and Morrigan followed behind him, trailed by Leliana and Sten. Once the group reached the second floor of the castle, they were met with a childlike laughter.

"I've been waiting so long to play with all of you!"

Tayte looked around and saw a boy of about twelve smirking at Alistair. He ran off suddenly, and Alistair reached out after him. "Connor?"

"Was that Eamon's son?" Tayte asked.

Alistair nodded slowly. "Why is he running around when there are demons in the castle?"

Leliana shrugged. "Maybe he noticed that the demons have left for now."

"No." Morrigan stated. "He knew that we were coming. Either he's possessed or that wasn't him."

Alistair's face drained of color. "We have to find Eamon at once."

Tayte nodded. "Where is he?"

Alistair pointed in the direction Connor ran. "His room is that way."

Tayte took a deep breath and followed Alistair down the corridor. They passed the corpses of some of the guards and knights, and eventually came to a door that was already slightly open. Peeking through the opening, Tayte saw several children's toys lying around.

Alistair sighed. "This is it." He grabbed the handle and pulled the door all the way open. Tayte gasped.

Connor was sitting on the floor, clutching a human heart in his hand and trying to pierce it with a wooden sword. An Orlesian woman sat in a corner, surrounded by broken body parts and wooden toys. In a bed at the back of the room, an ancient-looking man flailed restlessly in his sleep. The Orlesian woman tore her eyes off Connor to look at the intruders, frowning even more deeply than she had before. Connor sensed that he was being watched and looked up.

"Finally! Guests!" He cheered, standing up. "I've been waiting so long for you. I can't tell you how long it's been since I had a fresh head to kick around."

The woman in the corner stood up, stepping over the gore surrounding her and pleading with Connor. "Please don't hurt them, Connor. There's been enough death."

Alistair whispered to Tayte. "That's Arlessa Isolde, Connor's mother."

Connor lowered his brow in anger. "But I'm bored! All of the flesh sacks in this castle are decaying and worthless!"

Tayte looked at Isolde, trying to catch her eye. "What's happened here?"

Isolde stepped away from Connor, who contented himself with chewing on the heart he held. "Several weeks ago, my husband, Arl Eamon, was poisoned by a blood mage."

Leliana moved forward as if to say something, but Alistair nudged her back. "How did the blood mage poison Eamon?" he asked.

Isolde wrung her hands and looked down. "I… didn't know he was a blood mage until it was too late. Connor showed signs of being a mage, and I didn't want the templars to take him…"

"Wait." Tayte held up her hand. "Are you saying Connor is a mage?"

Morrigan scoffed. "More like an abomination now."

Isolde looked up at Tayte for a brief moment before averting her gaze once again. "Yes, Connor is a mage. The blood mage I met was on the run from the templars, so I decided he could help Connor hide his powers if I kept him with us."

"But that didn't work out." Alistair noted. "Shocker."

Isolde knelt down and tapped Connor on the shoulder, causing him to fling the heart away and pout. She sighed. "After a week, he poisoned my husband and tried to escape. I heard that the villagers burnt him alive."

Tayte remembered the bonfire that had been set up outside the chantry in Redcliffe. "Then how did Connor become like this?"

Isolde shook her head. "I don't know. He was afraid that Eamon might die, but suddenly he turned into this."

Morrigan shoved past Tayte and walked over to the bed where the ancient man slept. Connor watched Morrigan intently, something sinister in his gaze. Morrigan turned to look at Tayte. "The poison has aged him early, but it seems to have stopped for now. The boy must have summoned a demon to aid his father."

Alistair cursed under his breath. Sten glared. Tayte sighed and looked at Morrigan. "Is there a way to save Eamon?"

Morrigan looked at the man. "Only blood magic could save him now."

Connor chuckled maliciously. "If only we had a blood mage to save him!"

Tayte knelt down and looked the boy in the eyes. Whatever was controlling him, he might be Eamon's last hope. "You must know some sort of blood magic. You possessed the boy and kept Eamon from dying."

"It was a fair trade." Connor smirked. "I do know blood magic, but the deal was to keep the old man alive in exchange for this body. If you want the poison cured, you'll have to make it worth my effort."

Alistair shook his head. "You can't bargain with Connor, Tayte. Leave him alone."

Tayte looked up at Alistair. "We don't have a lot of options, Alistair."

"We are _not_ resorting to blood magic." Alistair made a sweeping gesture with his arm.

Sten glowered. "I say we kill the boy. He is a mage; he cannot be trusted."

Leliana's eyes widened. "No! We aren't killing an innocent child!"

"Innocent?" Morrigan scoffed. "The boy is an abomination."

Isolde knelt down in front of Tayte and clasped her hands together, pleading. "Please don't kill my son."

Tayte sighed and looked at Connor. "What are your terms?"

Alistair stepped forward. "Tayte, don't do this. There has to be another way!"

Morrigan fixed an icy glare on Alistair. "Silence. Let the demon speak."

Connor leaned back, dropping the heart and scratching his chin. "The poison would take the man's life. In exchange, I demand to take the life of the person I choose."

Tayte frowned. "Why can't we decide who has to die?"

"Because I say so!" Connor yelled. "If I let you decide, it would take _forever_, and there would be so many boring arguments over who deserves to die and who should go on and it's all too tiresome."

Morrigan held up her hands and backed away. "I am not going to die to save some Arl who never did anything for me."

"No one's going to sacrifice themselves!" Alistair growled. "Tayte, we need to find another way to save Eamon."

Tayte stood up and looked Alistair in the eyes. "How, Alistair?" She pointed at the restless Arl. "What are we supposed to do?"

Alistair clenched his teeth and looked away. "I don't know."

"Parshaara!" Sten growled. "If you will not take action, then I will."

Sten shoved Alistair aside, drawing his sword. Tayte moved to stand in the qunari's way but ended up being knocked aside as well. Isolde shrieked as Sten brought his sword down on Connor. The boy simply looked up and smirked at Sten.

When the qunari's sword came down, Connor's body exploded into blood and gore. A blast of magical energy radiated from the boy's body, tossing everyone—even Sten—aside.

Alistair was the first to recover, standing quickly and wiping some of the blood from his face. He ran over to where Connor sat, but only found a collection of bones that hadn't been flung aside. Isolde was unconscious, drenched in the blood of her son. Leliana got up and limped over to Isolde, checking her pulse. Sten sat up and gazed awkwardly into space, completely bewildered by the magical burst.

Alistair nearly pounced on Sten, grabbing the qunari by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth. "What have you done? That was the Arl's son!"

Morrigan rolled over and gasped. "That… was no human…"

Alistair gnashed his teeth and clenched his fists, staring into Sten's eyes. "I don't care what kind of demon possessed him; that was still Connor!"

Leliana sighed with relief. "Isolde will live."

Alistair lashed out at Leliana, causing her to flinch. "How are we supposed to explain this to her? 'Our qunari got loose, sorry?' What justification could we give her for what Sten's done?"

Morrigan stood up and walked up behind Alistair, clearing her throat. Alistair spun around to berate her, but Morrigan silenced him with a slap to the face.

"We do not need to listen to your lecturing, Alistair." Morrigan pointed at the pile of bones that was once Connor. "Sten may have just saved your Redcliffe village by ending the demon's possession."

Alistair seethed, and Morrigan almost expected him to punch her. Instead, he turned and ran over to the Arl's bed. He looked down at the old man and growled. "The poison is still affecting him."

Leliana cautiously grasped Alistair's shoulder. "We may still be able to find a way to cure him."

Alistair clenched his fists, but nodded slowly. "We need him."

Morrigan crossed her arms. "Is he even more important than your fellow Grey Warden?"

Alistair gasped and spun around, causing Leliana to stumble. "What happened to Tayte?"

Sten, still seated on the floor, pointed to the crumpled form of Tayte. Alistair ran over to her, kneeling and placing a hand on her side. "Tayte, wake up!"

Morrigan walked slowly toward Alistair. "She won't respond. She's fighting off a demonic possession."

Alistair looked up at Morrigan. "It can't be…"

* * *

"What is your deepest desire?"

Tayte opened her eyes slowly, finding herself in a room she found familiar. She was sitting on a bench near the back of chapel at Highever castle, watching as Fergus and Oriana were married by Mother Mallol. She wasn't really paying much attention, instead sneaking a look back at the door every few minutes, hoping someone would arrive.

Tayte had almost given up hope when suddenly someone sat in the spot she was saving. She looked up and saw that it was Roland. "Sorry I'm late." He smirked. "I had to finish sparring with one of the other squires."

Tayte smiled at Roland. "With all the hard work you put into your training, I'll bet you'll be a knight by the end of the year."

Roland nodded and smiled. "I hope so." He tilted his head toward Fergus. "I think we may want to pay a bit more attention to your brother's big day."

Tayte nodded, smiling widely as she grabbed Roland's hand. They sat through the rest of the ceremony, and waited until everyone else had left before congratulating the new couple. Eventually, the two found themselves alone in the chapel.

"I'm glad you were able to make it, Roland." Tayte sighed contentedly and hugged Roland. He put his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek.

"I didn't want to miss your brother's wedding."

Tayte chuckled. "Be honest; you came here to be with me."

Roland smirked. "You've got me figured out, huh?"

"We spar together, Roland." Tayte looked into his eyes. "I know your tells."

Roland stroked Tayte's face. "True." He drew closer. "Though, to be honest, I sometimes hold back a bit. I wouldn't want to mar your pretty face."

Tayte bought up a hand to touch her face, confused. "Pretty face, huh?"

Roland chuckled nervously. "Well, maybe that's no the best way to describe it…"

Tayte felt over her left forehead and cheek, her smile fading into a frown. "I thought I had a scar…"

Roland shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of."

Tayte looked at Roland questioningly. "But you were there when it happened…"

Roland shook his head, confused. "Um… I'm sorry, Tayte, I can't remember anything like that…"

Tayte stepped back out of Roland's embrace and used both of her hands to feel out her face. "Something isn't right here…"

Roland frowned. "So you cannot let go of the pain of the real world even for your own fantasies?" His voice had become deeper, more sinister.

Tayte froze. "Who are you?"

Roland smirked. "I am your deepest desire."

Tayte shook her head. "That can't be right. That dream ended years ago."

Roland stepped forward, his voice continuing to shift to something demonic. "You've always wanted to have a strong husband who could also respect _your_ strength. You hid from your abilities before you met Roland because you were raised on tales of Orlesian wallflowers."

Tayte backed away from the aberration in Roland's body. "I'm a Fereldan, I've always taken my own path."

"Have you?" Roland smirked maliciously. "After you were scarred by Roland, you tried to become what you were before. You _studied_. You _wrote_. You were afraid that your abilities would make you unhappy."

Tayte felt disoriented as the chapel around her twisted into the shape of the library. The demon pretending to be Roland grabbed a book from the shelves and shook it. "But your talents would not go away. You were a gifted warrior and a skilled sneak. You trained with your father to prove yourself worthy of joining the army when you couldn't find a husband. You continued to study how to be a '_lady,'_ but you did so under the cover of night and without a single witness."

Tayte almost stumbled to the ground when she found herself suddenly in Fergus's room. The demonic Roland waved his arm to summon images of Fergus playing with Oren. "Beneath it all, you wanted a _family_. You wanted a husband that encouraged you. You wanted children that would emulate you. You wanted a _legacy_ that would be recorded in history. You wanted to be remembered by kings and emperors for ages to come." The false Roland gave Tayte a wicked glance as the room shifted back to the chapel. "Am I wrong?"

Tayte found herself out of breath, unable to answer. "What… are you?"

Roland laughed, chilling Tayte's spine as each dark echo reached her ears. He grabbed Tayte in a tight embrace. "I am your desire."


	15. Chapter Fourteen: The Scholar

_A.N: Chapter 13: "Nightmare" has been updated since it was first published to this site. I'd recommend reading all of that chapter before moving on with this one._

* * *

Tayte twisted out of the apparition's grasp. The demon posing as Roland only grinned wider. Tayte shook her head slowly. "You don't know me. That's not me at all."

Roland chuckled. "How can you be so certain? You've been wrapped up in the affairs of the Grey Wardens." Roland clasped his hand over his breast in a mock salute. "In peace, vigilance! In war, victory! In death, sacrifice!"

"I'm one of the last protecting Ferelden from the Blight!" Tayte shouted.

"You see?" Roland grabbed Tayte by the shoulder. "Would you have taken such a burden if all the credit had gone to Duncan? If you were just another recruit in the order?"

Tayte growled. "It wasn't my choice."

The demon Roland smirked at Tayte. She tried to break eye contact, but she couldn't turn away from the monster. "Oh, Tayte." Roland shook his head once and smiled. "In the end, it was."

Tayte clenched her teeth. "It was never my choice."

The demon ignored the venom in Tayte's voice. "You could have run away in the night. You could have hidden from Arl Howe's men as you made your way to somewhere safe. You could have left Ferelden."

Tayte felt her fists curl. She began to shake in anger. "I had nowhere to turn."

Roland let go of Tayte and waved his hand, changing the surroundings to the hillside forest near Highever Castle. "You had the entire world around you, and you chose the life of glory."

Tayte glared. "Stop talking."

Roland turned around, eyeing Tayte closely. "You're ambitious. Proud. The very same traits as the man you hate." The demon took a step toward Tayte. "You're no better than Rendon Howe."

Tayte screamed and flung herself at the demon, grasping its throat with both hands. It struggled, gurgling and kneeing Tayte between the legs. Tayte ignored the demon's throes and crushed its throat, dispersing it completely. Unsatisfied and uncertain of victory, Tayte threw back her head and yelled. "Get out of my head!"

Tayte suddenly ran out of breath, collapsing to the ground in the hillside visage. She gasped frantically, but couldn't keep the air in. She gave up, falling over just before the world went dark.

* * *

"She's awake!"

Tayte gasped greedily, scrambling to sit up. A hand pushed her back down hard. "Not so quickly, lest you injure yourself again."

Tayte took several deep breaths before she opened her eyes slowly. Alistair was sitting nearby with an anxious look on his face. Morrigan was holding Tayte down, looking into her eyes. Tayte could hear footsteps from elsewhere in the room.

Morrigan nodded slowly. "It appears you managed to fight off the demon." Alistair sighed in relief. Leliana and Sten came into view, looking down at Tayte.

"Where are we?" Tayte muttered.

Alistair gestured at the room around them. "Still in Redcliffe Castle. It's only been a few hours since we arrived." He stroked his chin. "I expect it might almost be dawn by now."

Tayte closed her eyes. "Dawn. Good." She pushed Morrigan's hand off her chest and took a deep breath. "What happened to Connor?"

The silence that ensued caused Tayte to open her eyes and sit up. She looked around the room to see that each of her allies had a different expression. Leliana's was sorrowful, while Alistair crossed his arms and glared at Sten. Sten tried hard to be unreadable, but it was obvious that he did not like the situation.

"Anyone going to tell me? Or will I have to figure out myself?"

Morrigan sighed. "He is dead, Tayte."

Tayte nodded slowly. "I should have expected this would happen."

Sten took a few steps back and walked out of the room. Leliana took a seat next to Tayte, frowning. "Isolde is inconsolable."

Alistair growled. "What can we expect? Sten killed her only child."

Tayte lowered her head. Images of Oren returned to her, and she shut her eyes.

"And now we have no way of curing your beloved Arl." Morrigan sighed. "This trip was a waste."

Tayte looked up to see Alistair slump. "Damn it. We're lost without Eamon on our side."

Leliana seemed to be deep in thought. "Perhaps we can still save Eamon." Everyone looked at her expectantly. "Have any of you heard of the Urn of Sacred Ashes?"

Morrigan tilted her head. "Is it an urn filled with ashes that the Maker supposedly stepped on?"

Leliana sighed and shook her head. "No. It contains the ashes of Andraste."

Alistair looked at Leliana with a frown. "I fail to see how this helps us."

"The ashes are said to cure any illness." Leliana continued. "Should we find it, we would be able to take a pinch of the ashes to cure Eamon."

Morrigan scowled. "Find it? You're saying this could all be a myth?"

Leliana lowered her brow. "It's not a myth."

"Where is it, then?" Tayte asked.

Leliana sighed. "I don't know."

Tayte shook her head. "We don't have time to chase after holy relics."

Leliana crossed her arms and scowled. "Fine. How about you come up with a better idea?"

Tayte rubbed her forehead, thinking. "Well, we could see if anyone at the Circle of Magi could help."

Morrigan grumbled. "Those Chantry mice are incapable of any useful magic. I can't help Eamon, how could they?"

Tayte shrugged. "Maybe they know something we don't."

Alistair scratched his head. "It's not like we have any better ideas, and we need the mages for our army anyway."

Sten suddenly walked back into the room, frowning. "There are others here to speak with you." He stepped aside to let Isolde and a man in chantry robes in. The man walked over to Eamon's bedside, shaking his head at the restless sleeping man. He turned to the group seated on the floor.

"It appears that the Arl's condition is worse than I anticipated." He sighed. "I had hoped he would grant me an escort on my expedition. Little chance of that now."

Isolde gestured to the man. "This is brother Genetivi. He only arrived in the village yesterday, he says."

Genetivi shuddered. "Yes. Last night was a horrific experience. We lost half of the village to the monsters." He wrung his hands and turned to the group. "I hear you also came to speak with Arl Eamon."

Tayte stood, and the others began to get up as well. "We need his support in the Landsmeet. We hoped to unite Ferelden against the Blight."

Genetivi nodded. "Of course. I should have known." He stole a glance back at the ailing Arl. "Why don't we go downstairs, give the man some space?"

Tayte shrugged, which Genetivi took as assent. He and Isolde led the way out of the room, while Tayte and Alistair followed behind them. Leliana and Morrigan trailed behind a bit, and Sten quietly took up the rear. While descending the stairwell, Alistair nudged Tayte. "When I lived here, Eamon raised me."

Tayte raised a brow at Alistair. "Really? So that's why you lived here?"

Alistair nodded. "I'm a bastard."

Tayte shrugged. "So?"

"I mean the fatherless kind." Alistair corrected.

"Oh." Tayte nodded. "That makes sense too."

"My mother died when I was young." Alistair continued. "Arl Eamon took me in."

Tayte lowered her head. "Ah. I see why this trip was… personal."

Alistair sighed. "Isolde never liked me. Always thought that Eamon was my father." He frowned. "I still wish we could have saved Connor."

Tayte placed a hand on Alistair's shoulder. "We can't dwell on what happened, Alistair."

Alistair stopped and looked Tayte in the eye. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry I got angry with you."

"Don't be sorry." Tayte frowned. "I was only looking for the quickest way out." She looked at Alistair and shrugged. "I didn't know how personal this all was."

Alistair nodded and the two began to walk again, catching up to Genetivi. "I should have told you sooner."

"Enough." Tayte muttered. "I was wrong to take matters into my own hands."

Alistair rubbed his shoulder. "I wouldn't be so sure it was the wrong decision. We didn't exactly get the best outcome."

Before Tayte could respond, Isolde led the group into a sitting room with a fireplace going. Genetivi silently gestured toward his chosen spot, and Isolde nodded permission. He sat in the central chair facing the fireplace, smoothing out his robe as he got comfortable. Alistair and Tayte sat next to each other on a padded bench near Genetivi. Sten stood behind a chair, unwilling to sit. Morrigan sat near the fire, already ignoring the chantry monk. Leliana pulled up a stool to sit near Genetivi. Isolde sat on a couch opposite Alistair and Tayte, slumped over.

"Redcliffe has seen dark days." Genetivi began. "But we do not have time to waste. Arl Eamon is gravely ill, and we must find a way to cure him."

Tayte leaned forward. "We have a treaty that obligates the Circle of Magi to assist us. They may be able to help."

Genetivi stroked his chin. "That may be suitable."

Morrigan scoffed from her corner near the fire. "I cannot cure your dear Arl, I doubt any of those chantry mages could do better."

Genetivi considered. "Yes, an apostate would have more knowledge of such a disease, so perhaps the Circle is not our best option."

Tayte struggled to keep her jaw from dropping. "You're dismissing the Circle just like that? What about the First Enchanter?"

Genetivi frowned. "You haven't heard the news, have you?"

Tayte slumped. "There's always bad news about who we need as allies."

"Let me guess." Alistair toyed with his runic token. "The First Enchanter is dead, blood mages run loose, and the Templars are struggling to keep abominations in the tower."

Genetivi tilted his head. "So you _have_ heard the news?"

Tayte and Alistair stared at Genetivi. Tayte raised a hand slowly, not sure what to say. Leliana broke the silence. "We hadn't heard the news." She sighed. "But apparently we have a good idea how these things turn out."

Tayte cradled her head in her hands. "How in Andraste's name did the Circle Tower fall?"

Genetivi frowned. "I've only heard rumors, but it sounds as if one of the senior mages managed to convert many of the students to blood magic."

Morrigan slowly turned around. "Blood magic, you say?"

Genetivi nodded. "Regardless, they aren't going to be of help to us in time."

"What do you suggest, then?" Alistair asked. "We don't exactly have many options."

Genetivi leaned forward as if he were telling Alistair a secret. "Have you ever heard of the Urn of Sacred Ashes?"

Tayte covered her eyes with her hand and sighed deeply. "Yes. Yes we have."

"I told them the story." Leliana shot a disdainful look at Tayte. "Tayte doesn't think that we will be able to find the Urn."

Genetivi smirked. "I know where the Urn may be." He looked around to see if he received any reaction. "That's actually what I came for. I wanted an escort to take me to the Frostback Mountains."

Tayte crossed her arms and challenged Genetivi. "How do you know where the Urn is supposed to be?"

"I've been searching for the relic for years." Genetivi pulled out a few sheets of notes out of his robes. "I managed to create maps that can take us exactly where the Urn was laid to rest."

Alistair looked at Tayte. "I suppose we could help him out…"

Tayte nodded slowly. After thinking for a moment, she nodded more resolutely. "All right, Genetivi. We'll help you reach the Urn."

Morrigan scowled and spun around once again. "I refuse to search for the dust of a madwoman."

Genetivi frowned and turned to Tayte. "Will she be an issue…?"

Tayte sighed. She looked to Alistair for help, but he could only shrug. Tayte watched Morrigan staring into the fireplace for a minute before an idea came to her. "We could split into two groups."

Leliana tilted her head. "Where would the second group go?"

Tayte stood. "You and Genetivi and I will search for the Urn in the Frostbacks, while Alistair and Morrigan and Sten will see what can be done at the Circle Tower."

Morrigan spun around. "And what makes you think I'd rather visit a potential deathtrap than a jar of dust?"

"If you're as powerful as you claim, why not prove it?" Tayte remarked. "Are the abominations too scary for you?"

Morrigan scowled. "I am afraid of no demon."

Tayte crossed her arms and smirked. "Then you'd be perfect for the job."

Morrigan rolled her eyes and leaned back on her seat, resigned. Alistair rubbed his token a few times before standing. "Um, wouldn't I have to lead the group then?"

"Yes." Tayte nodded. "It won't be for long, only a few weeks at most…"

Alistair sighed. "All right. But I don't like this."

Sten grunted. "Is it wise to send your strongest on another task while you explore the mountains?"

Tayte shrugged at Sten. "We know that the tower is filled with abominations. The wilderness should be relatively safer until the darkspawn arrive."

Sten nodded. "Precisely. The darkspawn will not wait for us to succeed. What if they arrive before you anticipate them?"

Tayte opened her mouth, but could think of nothing to say. Sten glared, unimpressed. Genetivi broke the silence. "I may have a solution for that." He pulled out another sheet of notes. "There is a golem in the village that the late wizard Wilhelm left behind. If we can find the control rod, we can activate it to protect us."

Everyone looked at Genetivi strangely. Tayte scratched her head. "If you know how to activate a golem, why do you need an escort?"

Genetivi sighed. "Because I don't have the control rod. I was going to ask around in the village about it, but I heard that Eamon was ill…"

Alistair held up his hands. "Wait. There's a golem in Redcliffe?"

Genetivi nodded. "It's likely only a statue to your eyes now, in its deactivated state. You must have passed it without knowing."

Tayte considered this new information. "If we can find the control rod, we should be able to defend against any darkspawn ambushes."

Genetivi stood up, smiling as he flung his hands into the air. "Then it's settled! We shall find the control rod and be on our way!"

Alistair snickered. "Someone's eager to leave."

Isolde stood up and walked over to Genetivi. "Be safe, Brother Genetivi. Please save my husband."

Genetivi smiled into Isolde's eyes. "You have my word that Arl Eamon will be restored by the Maker's power."

Morrigan gagged. She stood and shook her head, walking over to Alistair. "'Tis time to leave."

Alistair sighed. "Right now?" He looked at Tayte for guidance, but she could only shrug. "Well, it's time to save some possessed mages and templars." Alistair shook his head and walked out of the room, Morrigan and Sten following him.

Leliana rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "To think we may actually see the Ashes of Andraste!"

Tayte rolled her eyes and tapped Genetivi on the shoulder. "Let's go find this golem of yours so we can be on our way.

Genetivi nodded and handed over the sheet he was holding. "Take this. It has the activation phrase." He patted Isolde on the shoulder and said his goodbyes. He walked out of the castle merrily, amusing Tayte to no end. Leliana seemed to have the same enthusiasm, occasionally smiling every now and then on the trip back to Redcliffe village.

* * *

The aura of despair hanging over Redcliffe had been replaced by a cloud of sorrow. Villagers wept as they sent off the militia and other victims of the attack in small funeral boats. A pair of archers dipped arrows laced with oil into a fire pit and quickly fired off the missiles to burn the funeral boats. The revered mother, who was now missing an arm, used her remaining hand to bless the departed as they were sent off.

Tayte tried to avoid eye contact with the villagers that recognized her from the previous evening. By now her lie was clear, and few seemed to trust her after leaving them to the undead. Genetivi seemed oblivious to the hateful glares at Tayte and the wary glances at Leliana. Genetivi would have merrily led Tayte away from the grieving crowd had a familiar face not seen Tayte.

"Hold it right there." A gruff voice called out. Tayte sighed and turned to face Murdock, who bore a long fresh scar down his face. "You're the girl who was here yesterday."

Tayte frowned, trying to look indifferent. "And if I am?"

Murdock pointed at the castle. "I heard you and your friends went to the castle and stopped the demons from attacking. Is that true?"

Tayte nodded slowly. "You could say it that way."

Murdock crossed his arms, examining Tayte. Tayte slowly moved her hand over her dagger, just in case. Murdock didn't seem to notice. "A lot of people died last night."

"So I've heard." Tayte could see Leliana was becoming uneasy.

Murdock stood still for a long time. He suddenly extended his hand. "Good work. If you hadn't killed the demons in the castle, we may all have been killed."

Tayte relaxed her hand over her dagger and extended her other hand. "Glad to have been helpful."

Murdock shook Tayte's hand firmly. "I'll smooth things over with the others. They think you just abandoned us."

Tayte tried to avoid appearing taken aback. "Uh… thank you."

Murdock nodded. "I also have something you might find useful."

Tayte watched as Murdock walked over to one of the makeshift wooden barricades used during the assault. He knelt down next to it and knocked a few of the broken boards loose, revealing a thin metal rod. He pulled it out and walked back over to Tayte, holding out the rod.

"Some mage from the Rebellion once owned this rod. He claimed that it could control the statue near the village entrance."

Tayte took the rod tentatively. "How did you get it?"

Murdock shrugged. "The statue had apparently killed him, punching him off the cliff. The rod washed up with his body."

Tayte nodded. "And why did you have it in the barricade?"

"It's tough." Murdock shrugged. "Even the statue couldn't break it. I thought it could do some good in the barricade."

Tayte shook Murdock's hand once again. "Thank you, this helps me more than you know."

Murdock smiled. "Just promise me you'll find a way to get that creepy statue out of here before it punches me."

He nodded, signaling that he was done talking. He walked over to the last of the militia and began to speak with them. Genetivi smiled triumphantly while Leliana sighed in relief. "We have the control rod! And we didn't even need to search for it!" Genetivi made celebratory gestures, wondering at the rod in Tayte's hands.

"I'm glad that Murdock didn't hold a grudge." Leliana rubbed her hands together. "I was afraid he'd be angry at us for leaving the village on its own."

Tayte nodded. "I wasn't expecting him to thank me."

Genetivi shook his head. "No time for dwelling on the past, let's go activate the golem and be on our way!"

Tayte held back an amused smile as the chantry monk led the way to the village entrance. Without the fog from the day before, Tayte could now see the cliff dropping into Lake Calenhad. She also saw a statue taller than she standing in a triumphant pose over the cliff.

"This thing will be on our side, right?" Tayte mused. "I mean, it sounds like it killed its former master."

Genetivi waved his hand dismissively. "We have the control rod. We'll be fine."

Leliana tapped Tayte on the shoulder and whispered. "I'd be careful anyway." Tayte nodded.

Genetivi clapped his hands as he marveled at the golem. "The activation phrase!" He turned to Tayte. "Go on!"

Tayte held up the rod and pulled out the sheet she was given in another. She read aloud some of the phrases listed, with some corrections from Genetivi on the apparently dwarven pronunciation.

Tayte was becoming tired of listing off foreign phrases when she heard a subtle cracking noise. She looked up to see that the golem's head had turned. She stepped back; grabbing Genetivi by the shoulder and dragging him back a step.

The golem moved its head back into place. It then brought its fingers together before throwing its fists down, droplets of pigeon dung flinging off. It then stretched its body as a human might after being idle for too long, and turned around to face the group.

"You have _no idea_ what it's been like to watch over that pitiful village for thirty years." It stared into Tayte's eyes with its own glowing eyes. "What is it?"

Tayte stuttered, suddenly realizing what she was talking to. "I… well; I haven't really _seen_ a golem before…"

"No, no. I mean what is _it_? Why did it activate me?"

Tayte tried not to give away her confusion. "Did you just refer to me as "it?"

"Why, does that offend it?" The golem chuckled. "It's no worse than what I've gotten from my previous master. 'Golem, fetch me my staff.' 'Do be a good golem and squish that insipid bandit.' 'Golem, carry me. I tire of walking.' The gall."

Tayte frowned. "I suppose you didn't have the most pleasant experience."

"To put it lightly." The golem looked around. "And what is this one? The man with the robes. Tell me he's not a mage."

Genetivi stepped forward, a little frightened by the size of the golem but apparently assured by the rod in Tayte's hands. "My name is Brother Genetivi, a chantry scholar."

The golem shook its head. "Too long. You'll simply be the 'old scholar'."

Genetivi frowned and took a step back. "Very well."

The golem turned its head to face Leliana. "And what might this one be? Besides having hair that looks like it's on fire."

Leliana took a deep breath and stepped forward. "I'm Leliana, I was once a chantry sister."

"Then the sister should remember that the braziers in the chantry are dangerous, as it would be difficult to tell whether the sister's hair was ablaze."

Leliana nodded apprehensively. "I'll keep that in mind…"

The golem turned back to Tayte. "What about it? What banal title does it go by?"

Tayte shrugged. "Just Tayte."

"Oh? No fancy title? It doesn't go by 'Wilhelm the Warmage' or 'Wilhelm the Rebel' or 'that stuck-up bastard of a man'? That last one came from his own wife, by the way." The golem chuckled at its own joke.

"I'm a Grey Warden, if you want a title." Tayte toyed with the control rod, eager to move on.

"Ah. Defend against the darkspawn and all." The golem made a sort of frown. "My name is Shale, by the way."

Tayte looked up questioningly. "Shale? As in the stone?"

"No." Shale replied. "Shale as in the color of the sky."

Tayte rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

"I'm glad it thinks so." Shale looked around. It stopped suddenly and fixed its eyes on Tayte. "Why don't you ask me to do something?"

"Uh…" Tayte looked around, unsure of what the golem expected. "Walk over there…"

The golem stood completely still. It took a tentative step in the opposite direction. "And… nothing." It waved its arms up and down. "I feel no obligation to obey."

Genetivi frowned and turned to Tayte. "This isn't looking good, Tayte…"

Tayte held up a hand to Genetivi. "What do you mean, Shale?"

Shale looked at Tayte. "It holds the control rod. But I feel no force telling me to obey. Does this mean the rod is… broken?"

Tayte looked over the rod. "Maybe it can only activate or deactivate you now. I'm told you killed your former master, maybe all he could do was shut you down before he died."

"Killed my…" Shale paused, deep in thought. "I can't remember killing him. But it would make sense." Shale sat down. "I'm at a bit of a loss. What am I to do now?"

Tayte walked over to Shale and patted it on the shoulder. "You can come with us, like we expected you to. We need help against the Blight."

Shale nodded. "The darkspawn are a thread that must be defeated." It looked up at Tayte. "But they are not as evil as the birds."

Leliana frowned. "Did you say _birds_?"

"Yes." Shale growled. "Damnable feathered fiends. Always cawing and leaving their dung all over my stone!"

"Would you be willing to help us, though?" Tayte ventured, hoping to get off the violent avian tangent she could foresee occurring.

Shale shrugged. "I have nothing better to do." It looked up. "But it must do one thing for me."

Tayte tilted her head at Shale. "What might that be?"

Shale gestured at the cliff. "Toss aside my control rod. It won't need the rod anyway."

"Wait, don't!" Genetivi shouted. "What if we need to shut it down? It's too dangerous!"

Leliana shot a concerned glance at Tayte. "Be careful. We hardly know this… Shale."

Tayte nodded and looked into Shale's eyes. The glowing holes proved difficult to read. Tayte took a deep breath and flung the control rod into Lake Calenhad.

Shale's stony face twisted into a smile. It stood and nodded at Tayte, pleased. Leliana walked over to Tayte and whispered "I hope you know what you're doing." Genetivi grumbled something under his breath and sighed.

"Well, we have our golem. Let's be on our way." Genetivi began to march off.

Tayte patted Leliana on the shoulder and smiled. "Let's make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble in that kind of mood." Leliana nodded and smirked at the troubled monk.

Tayte caught up to Genetivi and led the group out of Redcliffe, taking the road leading west. As they left, Shale turned back for one last look over Redcliffe. It picked up something out of a tree and fell back into its place in the marching order. When Tayte stopped the group to make camp for the night, she saw bloodied feathers trailing behind the group. Shale stood by innocently and shrugged when Tayte pointed out the strange occurrence.


End file.
